You, Me, And The Baby
by Jemmz
Summary: Post-island. Charlie and Ana are raising their 3-month-old love child whilst Des helps Claire look after a fatherless Aaron. As the couples battle their feelings towards each other, Charlie and Claire continue an affair in secret. More info inside.
1. Chapter 1

**You, Me, and The Baby**

**Title:** You, Me, And The Baby

**Rating:** Just in case, M (16+)

**Genre: **Angst, humour, romance, H/C

**Pairings: **Charlie/Ana, Charlie/Claire, Claire/Desmond

**Summary: **A year after being rescued from the island, Charlie and Ana-Lucia are raising their three month old love child whilst Desmond helps Claire look after a fatherless Aaron. As Charlie struggles with his relationship with Ana, Claire must battle with her feelings towards Desmond, whilst they both try to cover up their long-term love affair that leaves both Ana and Desmond very tired and suspicious…

**A/N: **Been meaning to write this for like two years. Hope everyone who does read it enjoys! There are about six chapters that have been written already. I'll edit and upload each one in time! And I'm already planning a prequel :)

* * *

"_Claire_?" Charlie breathed as he turned on the lamp next to him. Claire lay motionless beside him, blue eyes wide and gleaming as they stared up at the grotty ceiling. Charlie sighed and sat up beside her, leaning up and pushing the covers down slightly, "What's wrong?"

She didn't even blink, those dazzling blue eyes mesmerising him, "You know what's wrong." She propped herself up on her elbows, resting on the mattress and stared at him, "What we're doing is wrong. _This _is wrong."

Charlie looked down from her gaze as if he had been expecting this. He didn't have to argue; he knew she was right. He just didn't want it to be true.

"You should get dressed," Claire told him, getting out of the bed and disappearing off in to the bathroom.

Charlie watched her go, scowling at the thought, "Will _he _be waiting?" he called to her, a look of spite across his face.

Claire frowned, letting her blonde curly hair drape over her cheeks as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror above the sink. She took in a deep breath, "Yes. And I've got to get back to him and Aaron."

Charlie grimaced and pulled his top over his head as Claire asked, in the same tone, "Will _she _be waiting?"

Charlie pulled the same face she had and answered quietly, "Yes."

She folded her arms and stood at the doorway in her night dress, looking tired, pale and depressed as she watched Charlie who was looking at her more curiously, than tiredly.

"Then you better hurry,"

* * *

"Yeah, I'd like to check out please," Charlie said, grabbing his new credit card from his wallet. Claire stood quietly beside him, barely making a sound. It was like she was practically dead. Dead inside anyway. Charlie noticed her unease as he handed the man his card, "Please don't be upset."

Claire stared at him, it was almost a hateful glare.

After Charlie had paid, he looked at her seriously, his eyes burning in to hers, "Claire, please."

"This has got to stop," she said half angry, half close to tears, "I can't keep doing this, Charlie! I can't!"

"Claire, listen.." he stopped, noticing a few heads turn. He grabbed her hand and lead her to a secluded part in the lobby, "Listen," he took her by the shoulders, "I love you, okay? I want to be with you."

"Then why aren't you?" she asked simply with a sad look in her eye.

"You know why. It's complicated," he frowned. Claire looked to her feet, she knew all too well how complicated things were. Charlie looked around quickly, making sure they were alone before tilting her head up with his fingers and kissing her tenderly, "We're just gonna have to be patient, yeah?"

Claire nodded sadly, "Okay." There was a small pause, "I should get back."

Charlie returned her dismal nod, he always hated this part, "Yeah, me too."

The couple walked to the hotel doors. They stopped to say there goodbyes. Charlie raised his head,

"…It was nice to see you again, Claire."

"You too, Charlie."

People walked past them, some looked at them, others walked past without a second glance. They both knew at least some of these people would recognise them. Either from the TV or paper, anywhere. But it was certain: they had to be very careful. They waved to each other regretfully before parting ways.

Charlie took a separate taxi home that night and breathed in deeply before arriving at a tall apartment block. Everything seemed black and white here. Not the glamorous life he had hoped for years ago, but he had settled for what he could. And this was the best he could do. He wasn't in a hurry to get home so, after he had paid the driver all the money he had left in his pocket, he trailed up the damp stairway, the humid stench of what could only be described as a mixture of wet dog and piss suffocating him.

It was actually a relief to get out of there in to a much more pleasant hallway. This was probably the nicest floor of them all; no graffiti, no rebellious youths, no horrid stink that made you want to vomit. It was nowhere near paradise though, and as Charlie had discovered no amount of banging your fists on the wall would cease the arguing of the family next door, or the noises of the sinful couple upstairs those nights when they were feeling frisky. He came to his door and he fumbled for his keys, wondering if he should bother hoping for a quiet night tonight. As soon as the door was open he was greeted by a baby's cry. He sighed, throwing the keys to one side before entering a small, pink room and approaching a smaller, colourful crib and picking up a bawling little baby.

"Aw, shhh," he said comfortingly, bouncing it up and down gently, "Where's mum, eh?" he asked the wailing infant, her face red and her hands grabbing at his face, "Or should I say Mother Evil?" he chuckled.

"Where've you been?" asked an unwelcoming voice. Charlie turned to see Ana-Lucia leaning against the door frame with a glass of wine in her hand as she stared at him grimly. He looked at her blankly.

"You know, out," he smiled innocently at her.

Ana scorned at his excuse but didn't bother questioning him any further. She was just relieved that she could hear herself think again.

"Why was she crying?" Charlie asked still bouncing the small baby as she slowly calmed down.

Ana felt her head as if she had a headache, "She's a baby. It's what she does. I've been going crazy these past few hours! The Disgustingtons from upstairs have already complained about us ruining their sex-fest. Out of anger I told them to do something they were already probably doing anyway…"

"Yeah, sorry I missed that," Charlie said somewhat sarcastically, handing Ana the baby, "Any luck with your mum?"

Ana sighed, glancing at the baby as she held it in her arms awkwardly, "Nope. She says I need more time off to look after Paige."

Charlie bit his lip as he went to get something to eat, "You know," he began as he took out a slice of banoffee pie from the fridge, "One of us _needs _a stable job if we're ever gonna provide for Paige properly. I mean, look where we're living."

"Alright!" Ana snapped, resting baby Paige on her hip, "I'm trying here! Not many people want a hormonal woman who's just had a baby as a police officer! And I have _you _to blame for that!"

"Okay, well I didn't mean right away," Charlie rolled his eyes, trying to ignore her remark, "And please don't swear around Paige."

"She's a baby!" argued Ana.

"Why don't you have some pie. That'll shut you up," Charlie offered, leaning against the counter and pushing the bowl towards her.

"Ugh. No thanks."

"What?" Charlie asked surprised, "But banoffee pie was all you craved while you were pregnant!"

She rolled her eyes.

"That was the only thing we had in common. Our favourite food," he added, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah, well not anymore," Ana muttered, watching Charlie take another spoonful of the pie, "Will you stop eating that! It's like all you ever think about is your stomach."

Charlie sighed, "Yelling-_that's new._"

"I have to suffer here all evening while you're out doing God knows what!" continued Ana as Paige pulled her hair. "I'm so sick of it all. And to be quite frank, I'm pretty sick of you too."

"You'll never change," he muttered, his lip curled. "We have a daughter now and you haven't changed at all!"

"Yeah, well neither have _you!_" Ana snapped, "Still pining over your lost love?" she commented rudely before turning in to the baby's room to put a fussy Paige back in her crib.

Charlie nearly choked, "I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not pining over anyone!" The alarm in his voice was obvious.

She rolled her eyes as she rejoined Charlie in the kitchen area, and scorned, "So Claire is _never _on your mind then?"

Charlie swallowed at the mention of her, "What have I said? I'm over her! She's still bitter about everything, isn't she. I'm concentrating on Paige now. She's what matters."

Ana crossed her arms, not believing him as he started to clean up and she muttered, "We'll see who matters."

* * *

Claire returned home to a peaceful silence as she unlocked the door to her house that evening. She smelt the pleasant aroma of something cooking and slowly wandered over to the kitchen where a figure was standing over the stove. She smiled.

"You didn't have to cook me anything."

The figure turned around and smiled back. It was Desmond Hume. "Thought you might be tired after your book club. _And _hungry. Read anything good today?"

Her smile faded. "It was alright," she lied, "Nothing particularly thrilling."

Desmond pulled her up a chair, acting as the gentleman he was. "Oh, shame," he frowned, "Oh well. Maybe there'll be a better one next time."

Claire smiled politely and sat down, trying to cover the uneasiness she felt. Instead she took to watching Desmond set the plates on the table, his body leaning over hers as he placed her plate in front of her. She breathed in and inhaled his pleasant scent. He smelled better than the food, she concluded.

"Aaron's been as good as gold," he told her with a grin.

Claire snapped back to reality. "Good. At least that's something."

Des sat down and smiled back at her. She locked eyes with him and they sat in silence for a short while, his deep brown eyes staring in to hers. Claire broke away her gaze and cleared her throat.

"You can go if you want," she said quietly after a small time.

He shook his head. "No, it's alright. I made enough for both of us."

"No," she said, looking at him seriously. She stared in to his eyes, "_You can go_…..if you want."

Desmond tilted his head slightly, finally understanding, "Claire, when you called me I came straight away. I made a promise not to leave you," he told her, "I care about you. I don't _want _to leave."

She wasn't sure how relieved she was compared to the disappointment of realising she'd have to continue lying to him. "As long as you're sure," Claire smiled warmly at him.

He put a hand on hers, his palm pleasantly soft, "I'm sure. Besides," he continued getting up to serve the food, "You're the closest to a friend I've got now. Lost touch with everyone else. And _Charlie…_"

"Don't worry about Charlie. He has his own problems," Claire stated with a small frown.

"I'm sure he has. It's a real shame though."

"Uh-huh."

He hesitated for a moment, then wandered over with the food. "Do you still speak to him?"

"Yeah... Occasionally…over the internet and such. And we've met up a few times. You know he doesn't live _that _far away. This was supposed to be his house after all too."

"I suppose," he paused, "Do you…_miss _him at all?"

She glanced at Des before shaking her head, "Not really," she said unconvincingly, "We've moved on, haven't we."

"Aye, I guess we have," Desmond smiled briefly before grabbing the plates on the table and serving up their late meal. Claire breathed in and sighed to herself. What a damn liar she was…

* * *

Charlie stood at Paige's door, staring at her crib and wondering how he and Ana-Lucia had created something so beautiful out of something so ugly. She seemed to have calmed down a lot compared to when he first got in. Slowly, he made his way over to her, watching her breathe in and out through her tiny nose.

"Never thought I'd have something as wonderful as you," he told the unconscious infant in a low whisper, "Not with…Mother Evil anyway," he sniggered quietly, though there was a slight hurting in his voice, "But you…you're amazing. You're not evil.," he smiled at her and tickled her chin gently before standing and thinking to himself.

He still remembered his and Ana's first encounter; it wasn't like what you would expect. Then again, it might have been exactly how one would expect with a relationship like theirs. It had been a cold night on the beach. He was angry, bitter, and he had stumbled upon Ana-Lucia, strangely enough, crying to herself. To this day he wasn't sure exactly what she had been sobbing about. He had never dared to ask. All he remembered then was the anger of it all, the misery of it. The freezing cold air of the late night stinging his flesh and the sand sticking to places he'd rather not mention.

That had been the first romantic moment he had ever shared with Ana-Lucia. If you could call such an encounter "romantic". But it had been the first time he had touched her and breathed her in properly, a curious experience. He had often noticed her on the beach or at the hatch by herself, just sitting there alone. On the odd occasion, they had made snide comments towards the other but never had he thought about her this way. It had been so unexpected. Not entirely unpleasant, but certainly not ideal. It had definitely not been what he had intended the conception of his first child to be like. But even though it had been a huge accident, now Paige was here, he didn't want to call it a mistake. This little being may have left their lives in a complex state but Charlie had a daughter now, a child of his own. And he didn't want to trade her in for anything whether the mother was 'evil' or not.

"Is she asleep?" Ana asked Charlie as he left Paige's bedroom . Charlie looked at her and nodded, "Thank God." She leant against the bathroom door as Charlie dodged past her to brush his teeth..

"So you might as well tell me, how was work?" she questioned coldly as he grabbed a cup of water from the side.

"It was….boring," he replied, spitting in the sink and then wiping his mouth.

"I'm sure it was" Ana muttered suspiciously.

"And yours?" Charlie returned the question, turning around to face her, though he supposed he didn't really care. "Apart from the trouble from the Disgustingtons upstairs, that is."

"Well, I wouldn't call it boring. It was pretty damn stressful," she told him bitterly, "I may have to get a hearing aid."

"Very funny," Charlie rolled his eyes, pushing past her and taking off his watch, "You know, I do my fair share! I'm the one getting the money in! I take care of her, don't I? Besides, Paige is such a Daddy's Girl!"

"Oh really?" she challenged, a deep frown across her face.

"Really," he argued. At her surprisingly quiet response, an arrogant grin took over his features and she pursed her lips together angrily.

"I'm going to bed."

"Alright, alright!" he surrendered, throwing up his hands, "I'll make an effort to get home earlier. The whole point of this arrangement was so I could help with the baby. So, I will. I'll try and get home in time to make sure she's down for the night."

"Good," Ana retorted before turning on her heel and heading for her bedroom.

"Remember I'm not magic! There's no guarantee she won't wake up again moments afterwards!" he called after her.

She raised a hand in recognition, "Noted." The door slammed shut behind her.

He sighed and grabbed the pillow and blanket from underneath the sofa. _Yet another night on the couch_, he thought to himself. Ana would bite his head off if he were to suggest sleeping in the comfortable king-sized bed. She never usually allowed it, and on those occasions where she did, well, that was under entirely different circumstances. Circumstances they preferred not to think about. Charlie tried not to analyse his relationship with Ana-Lucia. He knew it was a strange one. He knew their situation was beyond weird, but he had only himself to blame. If it wasn't for him and that one night stand with her, there would never even be a baby. However, she had turned out to be one beautiful baby. Claire had even said so.

_Claire_. He felt too crushed. Here he was, a father with responsibilities and all he wanted the most was that Aussie woman. It was as if she and Ana had swapped roles. Now, he was with Ana-Lucia and seeing Claire in secret. Claire seemed to resent what they had some days, but loved him all the same. She had said so herself. Their relationship seemed to consist of love, hatred, and passion - like with he and Ana, except they were more impulsive than in love. It was just pure energy and hatred that every so often was turned in to something false and insincere. Charlie could only hope that the future was brighter than the present he lived in now.

* * *

"Now you see me, Now you don't! Now you see me, Now you don't!"

Claire smiled at Desmond as he played the game with Aaron. The little one-year-old squealed and laughed as Desmond hid behind his own hands and then revealed a funny face at him. Claire laughed too.

"You're great with him," she said as she entered the living room and sat on the sofa by the fire.

"Am I?" Desmond asked, glancing at Claire before ruffling Aaron's scruff of hair.

Aaron held out his chubby little arms for a hug. Desmond looked at Claire, "I think he wants Mum."

She shook her head. "He wants you, silly!"

"Me?"

"Yes!" she rolled her eyes.

Desmond smiled warmly and picked up Aaron, blowing on his little bare tummy and then hugging him softly.

"Were you ever going to have children, Des?" Claire asked, sipping a cup of tea.

Des took a minute before answering, "Aye, it was always an option I guess. But…it wasn't meant to be."

She tilted her head, "I'm really sorry, Des."

"No, don't be! I like living here with you and Aaron. It's been…fun."

They smiled at each other.

"Well, I just hope I'm not depriving you of a good life where you're not held down by us," Claire shyly added.

"You're not depriving me of anything! You and Aaron are like my family," he said before pausing, thinking of how Charlie had once thought of the two as _his _family. Claire felt this too but assured him it was alright. Charlie had his chance, and now he had his own family to deal with.

Aaron yawned in Desmond's arms and closed his eyes.

"I think the wee man's tired," Des stated standing up and holding the young boy in his arm.

"I should expect so! Put him to bed, will you?" Claire asked with a brief smile.

"Sure," Des nodded, carrying the sleepy boy to his room.

Claire frowned and thought to herself. Sometimes, she would imagine her life with Charlie in her family. They could've both lived here with Aaron and been happy. She would be watching the telly and catching up on missed TV while he was singing Aaron to sleep in the other room, maybe strumming his guitar. Then, he would sit down with her and they'd snuggle up on the sofa watching their daily, cheesy TV dramas. To Claire, that would have been perfection. But things were not perfect. It was just a mere day dream. A pondering. And it would never be reality. Desmond was a really nice guy, and she'd be lying if she admitted she wasn't remotely attracted to him. But he wasn't Charlie. It was as simple as that. Desmond was just there. Claire had reminded him he could leave whenever he wanted. But he didn't want to. And that was fine with her for now.

"He's asleep," Desmond told her, re-entering the room.

"Thanks," she smiled putting her mug on the table in front of her.

"No problem at all," he told her, sitting beside her on the sofa. He stared at her, grinning slightly, "Anything else you want, I can do it for you."

She smiled thankfully, "You're too kind."

"It's no trouble."

Claire glanced up at the clock. 10PM . It was shocking how late Aaron had stayed up tonight, but she guessed that's what happened when a child's sleep pattern kept getting interrupted. Her tummy made agitated noises, "I'm hungry. How about some midnight snacks? We can raid the fridge!"

Desmond laughed, "It's not midnight yet."

"Well, we'll have some ten O'clock snacks then!"

They tip-toed to the kitchen, the moonlight shone through the window as Claire opened the fridge and grabbed some chocolaty snacks, "Ah, nothing like a good old midnight snack. Used to do it all the time when I was younger. My aunt said I was comfort eating."

"Why would she say that?"

Claire shook her head, "Never mind." She opened one of the cupboards and gasped.

"What?" Desmond asked, placing some of the chocolate bars on the table.

Claire jumped up with a jar in her hand, "Peanut butter! I completely forgot we had this!"

He laughed and Claire unscrewed the lid before dipping her fingers in the creamy substance and sticking her fingers in her mouth, "Mmmm. Try some!"

"Alright," Des chuckled. Claire raised her fingers to his mouth. Des paused before licking the peanut butter from her soft skin and tasting the food for himself, "Delicious."

She giggled and remembered her times with Charlie. The imaginary peanut butter, when he got her the real thing. How she missed those times. She tried to distract herself from thinking about those precious memories and she began acting silly and wiping the peanut butter on Desmond's face. He joined in the game, sticking his finger in the jar and smearing it against her cheek. She squealed and ran around the kitchen as the food fight continued.

Desmond had a big blob of the substance on his hand and was chasing Claire around the kitchen. She dodged him and danced round the table, trying to escape him.

She ran for the door but Desmond caught her from behind and she erupted in a fit of giggles. She licked away the remaining peanut butter and then complained of stomach ache.

"You shouldn't have ran around after eating that stuff then!" Desmond teased as she laughed in his arms.

"Alright, alright! It's my fault!"

She spun around to face him, slowly stopping her laughter as the atmosphere started becoming more serious. Desmond stared at her, hypnotised by her beautiful features. How often he had gazed in to that face and tried to resist what he was feeling. Claire stood perfectly still in his strong, secure arms. She felt a tension between them and she broke away from his grip,

"I should…I should…uh head on to bed."

"Oh, alright. Sure," Desmond replied nervously, "Of course. It's late."

She smiled at him briefly, "Night."

"Night."

She escaped to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and catching her breath. She tried to figure out what had just happened between her and Desmond. Things just stopped being so funny and started to get so…_serious_. Really serious. She wasn't sure. She didn't want to think about it. This wasn't the first time this had happened anyway. She had ignored it in the past but she knew it was becoming a problem. She was attracted to Desmond, sure. But she didn't at all plan to act on it. She wasn't in love with him. And she probably never would be.

Despite the tricky situation, she was still glad he was here. He had come at a time when she needed help the most. Her thoughts drifted back to their first meeting as she began to get ready for bed. She hadn't thought a lot of him at first, but as they spent more time together they had become quite fond of one another. He seemed to fill a void that Charlie had put there not long before.

Claire lay wide awake in her bed, finding it difficult to drop off to sleep. That damn Mancunian man was on her mind again. In the day, night, whatever. Claire could never stop thinking about him and what could have been. It was unhealthy…it was obsession. She had a new life now. Charlie may still be part of it…but not like that. She couldn't _have_ that relationship with him. Not anymore. They couldn't be together like that. They couldn't get married or have kids of their own. They couldn't be their own family. A part of her didn't want that with him now though. What she told Desmond was correct. Charlie had his chance and he blew it. He shouldn't have upset her and then made things worse by sleeping with Ana-Lucia as a comfort. _How pathetic, _she had thought, _I never want to see him again! Either of them!_ It was bad enough he had slept with her, but to have got her pregnant? It was too hard for her to bear.

Of course, it was impossible to rid of him so easily. It was clear they still had feelings for one another. She knew having an affair with Charlie was wrong. But she couldn't help herself. She was a woman with needs. She needed Charlie as much as she hated him sometimes. He had broken her heart, yes. But he was like a drug she couldn't be free of. She loved him. A tear fell down her face. Oh, why did she love him? She sniffed and wiped it away with her hand, the other one she lay her head on, her soft blonde curls flowed over the pillow. Both of them had families now. Even if it wasn't their preferred one. It was too late. They couldn't repair this as easily as they would have liked.

She sighed, trembling slightly. Des was here for her at least. He was a kind man. Gentle, giving…_handsome_. She blinked hard. She couldn't think like that. What would that make her? She wasn't like that. Not normally. Desmond was a friend and that was it. That was all he would ever be!

Although…..she did say the same thing about Charlie once upon a time.

**Claire has signed in **

**Charlie Pace: **Good morning!

**Claire: **If you say so.

**Charlie Pace: **What's wrong m'dear?

**Claire: **I don't feel well.

**Charlie Pace: **Aw, sorry about that.

**Claire: **Yeah, well, shouldn't you be looking at houses?

**Charlie Pace: **Good Lord, don't remind me. It's not like we have the money or anything.

**Claire: **You can have this house back if you want?

**Charlie Pace: **Don't be stupid! I offered you that house!

**Claire: **But it _was_ where you were going to live.

**Charlie Pace: **It was where _we _were going to live. It's yours now.

**Claire: **I hope you find somewhere good, Charlie.

**Charlie Pace: **Me too. But anywhere's better then this bloody flat.

**Charlie Pace: **I have to go. Wish us luck!

**Claire: **Good luck! Bye!

**Charlie Pace has gone offline**

"Is my mom here yet?" Ana called from the other room before she threw Paige's things out on to the coffee table, her pacifier and little toy bunny sliding across the surface.

As if on cue there was a knock on the door. "I guess so," Charlie replied, opening the door to an older, stricter version of Ana-Lucia: her mother. "Hey Theresa," Charlie forced a smile, though he disliked the woman - possibly even more than Ana herself.

Theresa Cortez stood with her arms crossed, a frown painted across her face. "Hello Charlie," she replied coldly, making her way through the door and pushing the younger man out the way.

Charlie caught his balance. "_Please…come in_," he added sarcastically.

"Where's Ana?" she demanded throwing down her coat and bag on to the sofa.

"I'm right here, mom," Ana mumbled as she stood at the doorway, her white jacket already on and her hair put up securely in a pony tail.

Theresa smiled tightly. "Hi, honey. How are you? You do have everything you need, right? I hope you find something - this place is pretty awful."

Ana frowned, looking away, "Paige is in the next room. Her things are all on the side."

"Ah, yes," Theresa sighed, "My granddaughter: Unexpected Love Child," she glanced at Charlie. He crossed his arms and pointed out they were going to be late if they didn't hurry. Theresa nodded, "Yes, you're going to need a good house if you want to look after your child properly. I trust everything is okay, financially?" she asked, glancing at Charlie again.

Charlie bit his lip.

"What is it you do again, Charlie? Working at a club every night? It's not a very stable job, is it?"

"I suppose it isn't," he muttered, becoming agitated.

"If you'll only let me come in to work, I could have a good job," argued Ana.

"Oh, Ana. You're a mother now, you have other responsibilities. You shouldn't have to worry about work just yet. Look at all you've been through. I'm just happy you're home and safe again. I don't want you to come back to work until you're completely ready."

"I _am _ready," hissed Ana.

Mrs Cortez shook her head, "Just take it easy for now. Look after yourself, work on getting back in to shape! You'll need to if you want to come back to work."

Ana growled angrily. She didn't care much for being humiliated, especially in front of Charlie.

"_Mom_," she muttered, "_Goodbye._"

"Bye," she smiled.

Ana stormed past Charlie who waved at Theresa before closing the door abruptly.

"Ah, how I love having your mother over," Charlie smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as they walked in the cold.

"Shut up," she snapped, "She's an annoying, heartless woman."

"It does seem like she wants the best for you, though."

Ana sniggered, "She wants to ruin my life."

"She thinks you already have."

Ana glanced at him.

"She's just disappointed in you, that's all."

"I don't need you analysing my relationship with my mother, thank you very much. You don't see me talking about _your _family. It's not like _they_ ever visit."

Charlie frowned, "Well that's because they're afraid of you."

"Of course they are."

"Liam might come over soon. He hasn't seen Paige yet and we haven't had much of a chance to catch up since the rescue. He has a daughter of his own, you know."

"Can we just get this over with?" she interrupted, walking faster.

"Sure.." Charlie answered beginning to follow her, "Absolutely."

* * *

"You alright?" Desmond asked Claire who had turned off her laptop and was now leaning over her desk with her head resting on one arm.

"Yeah. Just bored. Maybe I'll go out and do some shopping. Get some more peanut butter."

Desmond laughed and looked to his feet. "Sure," he looked back up in to her ocean blue eyes. "Don't worry, I'll look after Aaron."

She smiled gratefully, "Thanks Des," she got up and kissed him on the cheek, "You're a great guy. What would I do without you?"

He grinned back, and as she left to get ready to leave, still felt her smooth skin against his cheek.

Aaron was sitting on the floor in his room, moving around his toy cars and amusing himself as they crashed in to each other. Desmond noted his behaviour curiously as he leant against the door frame.

"Right, well, I'm off!" Claire called wrapping her scarf around her delicate neck.

Desmond turned around and smiled, "You look great."

"It's just my coat, Des," she rolled her eyes but blushed all the same.

"Ah...but it's new, isn't it?" he asked quickly.

She grinned and looked down at it, "Yes…yes it is," she pulled a perplexed face for a minute, as if surprised by his perception before shaking her head and smiling, "I'll see you later! I'll get lots of peanut butter," she waved.

Desmond chuckled, "Bye Claire."

When she closed the door behind her, he sighed. He felt something for her. It was clear. He was making it obvious, though he hoped Claire didn't notice. She had enough on her plate as it was already. He knew she was still talking to Charlie and he didn't want to cause anymore tension. Charlie would be furious if he knew how he felt. They had had a few confrontations about it already, and Desmond denied everything. He still loved Penny, he always would. But he couldn't refuse his feelings for Claire. There was something there, he wished there wasn't but there was. And he would have to deal with it.

Claire strolled outside, breathing in the cool air deeply. She wasn't worried about bumping in to Charlie today. He lived on the other side of town so it was unlikely they would see each other. She supposed she should be more grateful to Charlie for giving her his home. God knows he's had a lot of ear ache to put up with from Ana-Lucia. In some ways she felt sorry for him. She swallowed and placed her hands in her long coat. It was a breezy day. She sighed and made her way in to the warmth of the supermarket.

* * *

"And this - is the living room," the sales agent smiled politely behind her red glasses as she lead the couple in to the luxury living room.

"It's brilliant," Charlie commented, smiling as he looked around the room, "All of it. There's a room for the baby. _And _an extra bedroom." An important factor for their relationship, when it was necessary.

Ana eyed him and considered this, "It's fine," she said.

"We're definitely interested," Charlie nodded to the sales agent.

"Excellent!" the woman in front of them smiled, whipping out a clip board with some papers, "If you and Mrs Pace could just sign these-"

Scornful laughter erupted from the couple and the woman looked at them curiously.

"Oh, we're not married."

"We're not even in a relationship," Ana hissed, a little too offended for Charlie's liking.

She raised an eyebrow, "But I thought you said you were looking for a Family House?"

"We are!" Charlie insisted, "We have a daughter."

The woman paused and wrinkled her nose, "So, you have a daughter and you're living together…but you're not _together_."

"That's right," Ana replied, unashamed, "Is that a problem?" Charlie coughed awkwardly.

"Oh, no. It's just that we have several other families that are looking for a house just like this. And of course there's the issue with the financing, " she readjusted her glasses on her freckly nose.

"Forget it," Ana snapped, already heading towards the door. "Coming?" she asked Charlie.

Charlie sighed. "Thanks anyway," he said to the agent before following Ana, although he didn't look thankful at all.

* * *

Claire grabbed a jar of peanut butter from the shelf and thought about last night. She and Desmond had fun, and it was great living with him. But that awkward little moment between them stuck in her mind. When he touched her, she forgot about everything else. It was just them, together, alone in their little moment. There was no Charlie, no babies, no confusion. But if something were to ever happen between them it would cause only that. Confusion. And a lot of other things she wouldn't allow. Besides, she wasn't in love with Desmond. She was in love with Charlie. So in love she was having a secret relationship with him.

They were risking a lot to carry on what they had. Claire didn't want to lose him and she didn't want a relationship with Desmond. No, no. Things would have to stay as they were. She sighed. Charlie was with Ana and she with Desmond. Two _happy_ families. _What a joke we all live_. She sighed placing the jar in her basket.

* * *

"That went well," Ana mumbled with disdain as they walked again. She was clearly disappointed, but she didn't have to explain herself to anybody, let alone some clueless little sales agent who she didn't know or care for.

"Fascist," he muttered. Ana rolled her eyes. "Maybe we'll have more luck with the next one?" he offered.

"It's the same company, you know," she sighed.

"Well if they have a problem with the way we live our lives, or how we manage our money, we can always say we're engaged," he suggested with a shrug.

Ana looked at him from the corner of her eyes, unsure how to react. "You're kidding, right?"

"We can say it's still unofficial because you're still adjusting to the idea of being a wife- that's believable, right?" he tried to hide the smirk playing on his lips.

"You're an idiot. That'll never work!"

"It might if we get our stories straight! We can say I proposed after I found out about the baby. They want more? No problem! It was a snowy day and after a romantic night out at an expensive restaurant, I paid some kids to have a snowman built in the shape of us, canoodling like the happy, stable couple we are." He started laughing at her disgusted reaction. "Then there, between the snow sculpture's entwined and thorny hands - a ring! And I picked it off and got down on one knee in the freezing cold snow and said _'We need a house! Marry me!'. _They'll love us after that!"

"Of course not. Because you're an IDIOT!" Ana snapped, poking him in the rips. "Stop kidding around!"

"But I'm deadly serious," he claimed, trying to stifle his laughter. "It's perfect!"

She hit him in the chest, "Screw this, I'm getting a cab!"

"Violence never solves anything!" he spat with a hand over his sore chest.

"Speak for yourself!" she yelled as she found a taxi and hopped in to it, leaving Charlie alone on the pavement, frowning.

The amusement passing, he watched the car go and he propped himself up on a wall, digging his hands in his warm pockets and mused to himself as he watched his breath condense in the chilling air.

"Charlie?" he heard a voice say.

He looked up and saw her walking towards him, a bag of shopping in her arms, her skin as pale as the white sky.

"Claire.."

"What're you doing here?" she asked, shivering slightly.

He smiled. She looked so cute in her little scarf and hat. He jumped down from the wall and faced her, "Was house hunting, not anymore."

"Oh right. I didn't know you were looking round here.."

Charlie shrugged. He would be lying if he said it had been pure chance that they were looking at houses closer to Claire.

"Any luck?" she asked, secretly hoping he hadn't managed to get a house this close to her. She couldn't deal with anymore awkward run-in's or risk anyone finding out about them. She preferred how things were now.

He shook his head, and she hid a relieved sigh. "They won't seem to sell to unmarried couples with a baby."

This surprised her. "Really? Why not?" Again, Charlie shrugged. "Well, that seems a bit unfair."

"You're telling me," Charlie replied, though he wasn't interested in questioning it anymore. There was a short, hushed moment between them as they looked at each other. "I've missed you," he said.

"You saw me last night," she rolled her eyes, but secretly she had missed him too.

"I want to see you every night. And every morning."

"Well you can't." Her heart ached.

"I know," he pouted miserably, "Everything's messed up."

"You're telling me," Claire replied in the same tone.

He smiled slightly, gazing in to her eyes before leaning in to kiss her.

"Charlie, there are people here."

"So what?"

"Charlie," she said sternly.

Charlie frowned, pulling away, "Sorry…I'd..I'd better go."

She opened her mouth to speak as he began to leave her sight, but she didn't say a thing. Just watched him go.

She noticed he was about to cross the road when a car was driving past. He wouldn't make it. Her heart started beating uncontrollably when he didn't seem to stop.

"Charlie," she called. The car got closer and he stepped on to the road. "CHARLIE!"

Charlie snapped out of his muddling thoughts and swerved around in time to see Claire running towards him, waving her arms around madly. For a moment, he became confused until he noticed a car beeping frantically and hearing its breaks screech on the road. He was glued to the floor in shock. He felt a force push against him and he was sent across the road, hearing a loud high pitched scream before landing hard on the concrete, banging his head.

He had just enough strength left to open his eyes weakly and see a blurry Claire lying motionless in front of a car a little across from him, her shopping spilled all over the road and a jar of peanut butter rolling towards him, before he finally passed out in to unconsciousness.

**TBC **


	2. Chapter 2

"_Charlie?_" he heard a female voice echoing in the background. He wrinkled his nose in his weak state and shut his eyes tight from the disturbance, "Charlie!" the voice barked and Charlie opened his eyes to see Ana-Lucia frowning at him.

He sat up slowly in the bed, grunting in pain before holding his dazed head.

"Ah, see. That's what you get for not crossing roads properly," Ana muttered, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.

Charlie winced, holding his head with one hand and cradling his shoulder with the other. He opened his eyes sleepily and looked around to see he was in a hospital room. "Oh God," he mumbled, feeling sick and confused at the same time. "What happened?"

"You don't remember? The doctor said you were involved in a car accident. Or something like that…Someone called an ambulance while you were out cold."

"Car accident?" Charlie asked pinching the skin in between his eyes. Then it hit him (but this time, mentally rather than physically). He remembered being in the road, seeing Claire push him out the way just in time for the car to slam in to her and not him. His heart sank and he couldn't breathe. "Claire!" he gasped anxiously, "Where is she?"

Ana felt her forehead crease. She grimaced. "You were with Claire?"

He caught himself and paused, realising what he had just informed her. "Yeah. I was."

Ana sighed.

"Look, it was a one time thing, alright?" he insisted, familiar with having to lie to her. It got easier each time he did it. "We bumped in to each after you left and…I've gotta see if she's alright."

"Your clothes are there," she nodded to his jeans and jumper neatly folded on the chair beside him. He slowly got out of bed, wincing with slight pain, grabbed his clothes and went to change in the restroom.

Ana bit her tongue. If he was talking to Claire again and getting in to stupid and dangerous situations she feared there would be no father for her baby after all. It had been a close call today but she had been told Charlie was fine and could leave as soon as he felt up to it (which according to Ana would be soon). At least he was alive…but if he was lying and this wasn't the first time he and Claire had '_bumped in to each other_' then she couldn't help worrying that Charlie would leave her to single handedly look after Paige. Then while he was off romancing Claire, she would be the single, unemployed mother with no social life and a bruised libido.

After changing, Charlie left his room anxiously, avoiding Ana's cold gaze. He was worried about Claire. So worried he hadn't even thought _why _she had jumped in the road to save him. The fact that she had risked her own life to save his was…_new. _It would have usually been the other way around. But still, she _had_ just saved his life. Claire must have really cared for him to do what she did. And he would always remember that. He only hoped _she_ was alright…what if she wasn't alright? Oh God, what if something terrible had happened to her? He picked up his pace now, looking in to rooms quickly and apprehensively.

Then he saw where she was. Lying weakly in a hospital bed, just like he had. She looked so frail, he wanted to rush in and see if she was okay. But a glimmer of hatred engaged his features as he saw the person beside her, holding her hand and talking to her as she slept. Desmond Hume. Charlie narrowed his eyes and glared at the opposing man. He detested him within good reason. It didn't look as if that detestation would lift anytime soon but Charlie didn't confront him. He didn't feel like fighting with Desmond when he had a limp and a nasty cut on his forehead.

"Claire," Desmond spoke softly, "Claire, can you hear me?" Des bit his lip anxiously. The nurse had told him not to panic. They told him she was fine, just a little bruised. The car hadn't hit her as hard as they had feared so that was a relief. But she was still hurt. He wondered what she had been doing in the road in the first place. But that wasn't important now. The only thing that was important was Claire and her health.

She stirred and Des tensed, turning his full attention to her immediately. "Claire?"

Slowly, she opened her blurred eyes, hearing his comforting voice. "Desmond? Is that you?"

Desmond smiled with relief and squeezed her hands tightly. "Yes. Yes it is!" he grinned.

Charlie watched from a distance. Claire was awake, that's all he needed to see. That she was alright. She had Desmond at the moment. He looked down as they talked, Desmond smiling wildly, overcome with relief that Claire, _Charlie's Claire_, was awake and safe. He wanted to storm in there, push Des aside and see to Claire himself. But he couldn't. Not now. So he sighed, dropped his fidgeting hands to his sides and returned back to his room where Ana was waiting for him.

He stood at the door. "Let's get out of here," he mumbled.

"Something wrong?" she asked, grabbing her purse from the side.

"No," he insisted, looking up to meet her face, "She's fine…Claire's fine…Can we just go?"

She stared at him, confused. "Has she said something to you?"

He ground his teeth together, becoming frustrated, "_I said_, can we go?"

Ana-Lucia creased her eyebrows together before shrugging, "Yeah. Fine."

After a short check up and a longer talk with the doctor, Charlie was free to go. Ana noticed his unease, as if he was distracted and concerned about something. She opened the door to their apartment.

"Paige is at my mom's," she stated as Charlie went straight for the sofa, flopping down on it and wincing slightly.

He didn't say anything. Just thought to himself. He feared Desmond was becoming too close with Claire. Sure, they lived together but both Claire and Desmond had assured him on countless occasions that there was nothing between them. He had believed them and accepted their current situation. Claire needed help with Aaron, and Charlie couldn't provide that for her now. So Desmond was the man to help her. It angered him even though he was doing Claire a huge favour. He hated the thought of them together. He hated the comforting words he must have been saying to her. He hated the way he must be touching her, feeling her, gazing at her. And even though he loved her, and Claire had told him not to be ridiculous and that there was nothing there between her and the Scot, he hated her for lying.

There was a time the two men had been close back on the island. Friends. Desmond was the man who saved his life on countless occasions. Charlie had relied on him. But not now. Now, Desmond was Claire's hero and Charlie was stuck here with Mother Evil, playing Happy Families with the woman he would have never thought to be spending his life with.

Well, it wasn't as if it were all that bad…and he _was _grateful for all Desmond had done for him on the island…

Then he realised.

What if something was seriously wrong here? What if he was in danger again? What if-

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ana asked from the kitchen, as if reading his mind. She placed a hand on her hip, talking over his racing thoughts, "You're…alright, aren't you?"

"I'm great," Charlie mumbled after a few moments, hardly blinking, "Just great."

"Right," Ana responded, unconvinced, "Well are you going to come with me to pick Paige up or are you staying here?"

"Yeah," Charlie replied, not listening properly.

Ana sighed, rolling her eyes back, "It's either one or the other, _genius_."

"I'll stay here," he told her, glancing at her as she waited by the door.

Ana frowned. For some reason she felt hesitant to leave him by himself. "You sure?"

"_I've just come back from the hospital_," he emphasised. "The doctor said I should rest."

She let out a short breath and muttered "alright" before opening the door and leaving Charlie to his resentful thoughts.

* * *

"Are you sure you're feeling well enough to leave? You did have a nasty fall," Desmond reminded Claire as he helped her along the corridor.

"I'm alright, Desmond. The car hardly hit me, you know. I'm fine."

"But you did hit your head pretty hard…"

Claire glanced at him sideways. "Really. I just want to go home and see my baby," she smiled ever so slightly and Desmond found himself smiling back.

"Well then, your chariot awaits," he grinned.

She laughed softly and they began to walk towards the exit. She wondered if Charlie was alright. She hardly remembered what happened after she pushed him out of the way of that car. Something deeply bothered her though. "Desmond?"

He looked down at her, his hand on the small of her back as he lead her carefully towards the doors, "Hmm?"

She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated as she stared in to his eyes, "Um...It can wait."

* * *

Ana sat somewhat uncomfortably with Paige in her arms as Theresa placed a cup of coffee on the table next to her. She silently thanked her before returning to her thoughts.

"Is everything alright?" Theresa asked, sitting on a chair opposite, "I thought you said he wasn't seriously hurt."

Ana-Lucia looked at her and frowned. "He's fine," she told her, "Just a little shaken up."

"That's understandable. But I had wished the father of my granddaughter would be a little more competent."

Ana cracked an ironic half-smile. "Me too."

"I'll give him one thing though. His eyes look wonderful on Paige."

Ana sighed, gazing in to the child's dark blue eyes. "She takes a lot after him."

"Don't worry. When she gets older she'll have your intelligence and potential."

The young mum smiled slightly. "Yeah," she mumbled.

Paige wiped her eyes with her tiny little hands and started sniffling and getting fussy. Ana looked up desperately, she hated it when she got like this. She looked to her mother for assistance. "Could you?"

"Sure," Theresa carefully took the baby from Ana's reach. Ana frowned as the baby started crying.

"You'll get used to it," her mother told her, "The crying always sucks. But I promise, she won't always be a bawling little infant."

Ana already knew that, but it felt like this would last forever. Her having to act as a mother to this needy little baby, worrying, stressing out, arguing. It felt like too much sometimes. She figured that was normal. But she just needed a break from it all. She wondered if it would have been the same with her first baby…the one that was never born. The one that died when she got shot. Would life have been different if she had never lost it? If Danny had stayed with her? Then she wouldn't have gone to Australia. Or boarded that plane. Or crashed and met Charlie. Then she wouldn't have gotten pregnant with _his_ baby. What a nightmare.

"Are you still seeing your therapist?" her mother asked her, rocking the baby gently. It was at that moment, Ana realised the crying had stopped already.

"Uh...yeah. I've been seeing him a lot lately actually. I'm seeing him again soon."

"You know if you want to talk to me you are always free to," Theresa told her seriously.

"Yeah, I know." Ana returned the smile. But truthfully all she wanted from her mother at the moment was her job back. But she knew she wouldn't get it. She had a responsibility as a mother herself now. "Thanks, mom."

* * *

"Here he is! He's a cutie! You're a lucky woman, Miss Littleton."

"Thank you," Claire smiled gratefully as she collected Aaron from Mrs Evans' house. The other woman smiled widely, dimples forming on her chubby cheeks.

"It was no trouble at all. If you ever need someone to look after him again, just give me a ring!"

"Will do," Claire replied appreciatively, "Thanks again, Mrs Evans. Goodbye."

"Bye sweetie!" Mrs Evans waved as Claire and Desmond took Aaron and walked back next door to the house.

"She's a nice woman," Desmond commented as they entered their home.

"Yeah," Claire mumbled, stroking Aaron's blonde hair as she placed him on the floor to play with his building blocks, "There you go, honey. Don't eat the blocks, remember."

Aaron scurried over on his knees and continued making his "palace" made completely from red, yellow and green building blocks. Claire smiled slightly as he found enjoyment playing with the things. Then she remembered what she had to ask Desmond.

"About what happened," she began, taking off her coat and hanging it up near the door.

"Yes?" Desmond asked, taking off his own jacket and placing it to the side.

"I… need to tell you something.."

Desmond paused and stood at the door, looking at her with concern, "Well what? What is it?"

She swallowed, taking a breath before continuing, fearing his reaction. "Charlie was with me.."

Desmond stared at her, feeling his heart sink slightly. Charlie. He knew he couldn't stop her from seeing the other man but a part of him wished she could just be happy with _him _and move on from Charlie. He took a moment before replying and avoided her worrying eyes, "Oh."

Claire felt her voice waver as she began to continue. She shivered slightly, her eyes beginning to water. "Are you….having them again Desmond?" she asked, nearing him slightly, "The visions? Are you?"

"What?" Desmond asked, wrinkling his nose. "No! Why would you think that?"

She closed her eyes in silent relief, holding back her fears, "He was gonna get hit," she said quietly, "The car, it nearly hit him. Not me. I pushed him out the way just in time."

His jaw dropped, "Oh Claire."

She lifted her head again and faced him properly, "So I need you to tell me the truth, Desmond. Did you have a flash of him dying again? Like those times on the island?" her heart shrunk at the terrible possibility.

Desmond walked over to her and placed both hands on her shoulders, "Claire…These things happen. They stopped. They stopped as soon as we got rescued. Charlie's alive. He survived. He _and _Ana-Lucia did. Everything's okay now. We're off that island. Alright?"

She sniffed, eventually meeting his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Alright."

Desmond bit his teeth together. It hurt him to see Claire so upset. Especially over something she needn't worry about anymore. He pulled her closer and held her in a friendly embrace. He rested his chin at the side of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her soft hair, "You don't have to worry about any of that anymore, Claire. Trust me."

* * *

Charlie staggered over to the table and grabbed his jacket. He had spent over an hour contemplating over it and now he had to get answers. If that bastard was having lovely visions of his demise again he needed to know. It was his _right_ to know. He wasn't going to sit here nursing his wounds and hoping they'll heal without having to go through another near death experience. No. He was going to find out if this had been another fateful vision even if he had to beat it out of his old friend.

But as he swung open the door, Ana emerged with a pushchair and a screaming baby.

"_Wonderful_. Friggin' elevator's broken so I had to _climb _up five flights of stairs with a screaming baby in a heavy stroller!"

She pushed past him and he stood at the side anxiously, waiting to leave. But now Ana was here he doubted she would let him. Not that he needed her permission….

"She's been non-stop crying since we left," Ana added, un-strapping the baby and telling her to quieten down, or else.

"Not sure threatening her will work." Charlie offered impatiently.

"Well, I _am _sorry Mr. Expert," she snapped, "But are you the one who's had to walk all the way from my mother's and back here as well as scrambling up God knows how many steps?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, beginning to edge towards the door.

"Where are _you_ going?" Ana demanded.

Charlie sighed. "I have to see Desmond."

"Desmond?"

"Yeah. I won't be long.."

She put her hands on her hips, now ignoring the crying infant beside her. "Why do you need to see Desmond? You hate that guy."

"Yeah, I know but...I.." he dropped his hands to his sides, giving in. He would have to tell her. "I don't think what happened today was just an _accident_."

Ana tensed upon hearing this. "Don't. It can't be.."

"That's what I wanted to find out.."

"You're not going anywhere," Ana stated firmly.

Charlie stared at her, "What?"

"You're not leaving." She headed past Charlie and closed the front door.

"Why not? I have to see-"

"No!" Ana snapped, "Do you think barging over there at this time is a smart idea? You wanna get hit by ANOTHER car? Because this time your precious Claire won't be there to save you!"

Charlie stopped, hearing Paige's cries. He wasn't going to leave. He and Ana both knew that. The baby wailed louder over their glares. "You not going to see to her?" he asked, nodding towards the red-faced and wet-cheeked child.

Ana frowned, "Well, she _is _a Daddy's Girl," she told him before turning around and heading for her own room.

Charlie let out a small sigh and advanced towards little Paige. He wiped away her tears as gently as possible with his little finger, "Shhh," he picked her up cautiously, kissing her forehead. "Why are you crying? Don't cry. Daddy's here now. Don't fret."

He began rocking her gently and having one of their popular Baby Talk Discussions, just like he used to do with Aaron. He was getting better at that. And then he started to sing. She softened, closing her eyes as he sang quietly. Sometimes he would get out his guitar and serenade her to sleep, strumming lightly as he sang. But amazingly enough, his voice was usually enough to get her to calm down and drop off to sleep. Her eyes were firmly shut now and she slept soundly in her pink blankets. Charlie slowly put her in her crib, being careful so as not to wake her again. He smiled down at her, then yawned. It had been a long day. He thought he deserved some sleep after everything. He still ached from the accident but he knew he had been lucky. For now, he needed to rest.

* * *

Claire didn't sleep much that night. She and Desmond had fallen asleep on the sofa, Aaron curled up on her lap hugging her thighs. She had been staring up at the ceiling all night, trying to drop off but not managing it. She kept thinking of Charlie and if he was alright after what had happened. She believed Desmond now. What had happened was purely an accident. And she wouldn't let it happen again.

Very gently and quietly, she picked up her baby, kissed his forehead and placed him in his real bed. He hardly stirred from his slumber. Then carefully, Claire went to the phone and dialled.

"Hello?" she heard a yawning male voice.

She swallowed, "Charlie?"

She could hear him tense on the other end of the phone, "Claire, you know we're not supposed to use the phone to contact each other!"

"Are you alright?" she asked, ignoring him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm alright," he answered.

She closed her eyes in relief. "Oh, good."

"…Are you?"

"Yeah, just a little bruised."

"Claire," Charlie started, "Did Des say anything to you…you know…about…"

Claire knew what he was getting at. "I talked to him about it and he's not having visions again. You're safe for the time being."

She knew he was grinning with relief. "That's great," he breathed, "I was gonna see him yesterday but…you know, Ana seems to have me on some curfew."

She laughed a little.

"Speaking of whom, she's finished in the shower," she imagined him rolling his eyes, "And she's yelling at me to turn my music down."

"Driveshaft?"

"Of course," he laughed, "I kinda missed it. I'll talk to you later. Will you be online later?"

"Sure. Bye."

"Would you turn that trash off?" Ana asked again, her tone angry as she towel-dried her hair.

"_Trash_? Now that's harsh," Charlie said, tossing the phone on the arm chair."If you're going to insult me at least use proper English."

"Just turn it off. No offence but your music is awful."

"Hey, that was my life for years, I'll have you know." Charlie replied defensively.

"A lot of good that did you, didn't it."

Charlie bit his tongue at her correct logic, then watched her as she went to the cupboards to get some tablets.

"Headache?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah," Ana mumbled, downing some pills.

"Enjoy your morning run?"

She shrugged.

There was a slight pause, then Charlie spoke up, "I'm not dying," he told her. "Desmond isn't having visions."

She swallowed and, sighing quietly with relief, she turned to meet Charlie's eyes. "Great. I'm…I'm glad ," she told him.

He stared at her, forehead creased. "Aren't you a little more happier than that?"

"What? I'm ecstatic…really. That's wonderful news," she insisted unenthusiastically. Terrified as she was of losing Charlie, she wasn't about to let him know it. "Haven't you got work to go to?"

"Um..it's only 8 o'clock in the morning. Club opens at seven."

"Oh, right."

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked her, shifting his weight on to the other foot.

"Fine. You're the one that was nearly run down by a car yesterday."

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Sure," Ana grinned sarcastically grabbing some paper work from the side, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to work on figuring out how much money we have left so we can move out of this hell hole."

"This _hell hole _is our home," Charlie pointed out.

Ana sniggered as she sat down at the table, papers spread out everywhere.

"Come on, it's not that bad!"

"The freakin' elevator broke down yesterday! Your daughter and I could have been trapped in that!"

"Yeah, well Lifts break down. It's not the building's fault. It's decent enough for the amount we pay."

"Not that you would know how much we pay. _I'm_ the one who manages the money."

"Only because you won't let me deal with it!" Charlie still had to make sure that Ana didn't discover the bills from his private credit card. Usually he paid cash but recently, there had been a short supply of that.

"That's because you waste it all on amps and God damn food we don' t need."

"Well sorry for spending a little cash on the stuff I was deprived of for months while I was stranded on some bloody island!"

"I do realise that, I was there too you know! You of all people should remember that," she provoked.

Charlie bit his tongue. And then the baby started crying again.

"I told you," she added not looking up from the papers, "It's all she does."

They both stayed where they were for a moment, each wanting the other to see to her but neither were

budging.

"For God's sake!" muttered Charlie, giving in and walking over to Paige's room. Ana rested her head in her arms and let out a frustrated sigh before Charlie appeared from the other room, their baby girl in his arms. "You know, when was the last time you gave her a nice long cuddle?"

Ana wrinkled her nose at him as Paige began to calm down, "Do I look like a nice cuddly person?"

Charlie rolled his eyes back and sat down beside her. Immediately the baby started crying again.

"Why don't you hold her for a bit? Mum's are always better at this type of thing."

"I highly doubt it." Ana muttered. But Charlie already had his arms outstretched for Ana to take hold of Paige, "I'm a little busy."

"Come on, she might stop crying."

She raised her eyebrows in annoyance, but Charlie insisted. Reluctantly, Ana took hold of Paige and held her. The baby seemed to worsen and she squirmed in her blankets, kicking her tiny little feet and waving around her mini little hands.

Ana frowned deeply. "Happy now?" she handed the baby back to Charlie and she calmed down a little.

"Maybe she just needs nursing?"

"No way!"

"We can't keep bottle feeding her at her age," Charlie pointed out, looking down at the infant, "She's too tiny," he added, his voice becoming more baby-like, "Besides," he continued more seriously, "Haven't you heard breast milk is better for the baby?"

"I don't care," Ana shuddered, "No way."

"This is stupid. You could at least act like her mother."

Ana felt her anger overtake her, "I don't want to act like her mother!" she snapped, her fist banging on the table in front of her.

Charlie blinked, taken aback. There was a long, awkward silence until Charlie spoke softly, "You know, neither of us asked for this. We didn't want this, no. But we've got it now and it's our faults. We only have ourselves to blame. We may as well make the best of it."

Ana-Lucia took a deep breath, trying her best not to hit Charlie and throw him out the window, "I don't need this. I have identified what I did wrong and I don't need you reminding me that this mess is my fault."

Charlie sighed. "This mess is our life now."

"Exactly!"

Charlie glared at her, "Right, well...I'll just put _our daughter _back in her crib then shall I?" he retorted carrying Paige back to her room.

Ana grunted, leaning on her arm and throwing down her pen in frustration. This wasn't how her life was supposed to be. It was never meant to be this hard, this frustrating.

* * *

Claire watched Desmond's muscular chest rise and fall intently. Every breath he took was every breath she held in. She wanted to rest her head on him and just lie there for hours. No worries. No fears. Just two bodies lying together peacefully. But despite these feelings, she remained perfectly still. Just watching him, wondering whether he was going to wake up and trying to decide whether she wanted him to or just have him remain sleeping serenely on her sofa.

She looked away quickly when his eyes opened slowly and she straightened herself out, sitting on the very edge of the cushion as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes sleepily. He yawned. "Morning."

"Morning, Desmond," she said politely, positioning herself more comfortably on her seat as Desmond now sat beside her.

"Were you…were you watching me sleep?" he asked, a small grin surfacing.

She looked at him, putting on her best confused face. But even she couldn't help smiling. She raised her eyes to the ceiling, shaking her head, "No! Of course not."

He looked at her suspiciously before stretching and feeling a pain in his neck, "Did we fall asleep on the sofa?"

"Yeah," she smiled softly. "I guess we did."

"Together?"

"I suppose so. I must've been too tired to head off to bed and dozed off next to you." Well, she thought, there was some truth in it.

He looked down and showed a toothy grin before raising his brown eyes to gaze in to her bright blue ones. They shone today and added to her beautiful smile. Awkward as it was, he took it to be a genuine response to his company. He felt his heart sink slightly when she looked away and bit her lip. Des thought it best to change the subject.

"Where's our wee man then? Still asleep? Thought he'd be up by now."

"Yep, he's still asleep," she replied, wandering over to the kitchen to pour herself some coffee. "I expect he'll wake up in a minute wanting some breakfast."

"I was thinking," Desmond began, tapping his knee somewhat nervously, "Why don't we take Aaron to the zoo today? Don't think he's had a nice day out in ages, and it'd be fun. I mean, if you're feeling up to it. If you're still shaken up we can make it another time, maybe? "

Silence from the kitchen. He heard the sound of cups clanging together and spoons stirring. Then finally, she emerged from the kitchen with an unsure expression, "Oh, Des. That sounds really nice. But you don't have to do that. I'm sure you have better things to do with your time."

She walked over to him and handed him a cup. He took it gratefully then proceeded to answer her as she sat in the armchair opposite with her own mug of coffee,

"It's no trouble at all. I want to go, I do! I'd want nothing better. I wish you'd realise spending time with you and Aaron is not a chore for me. I enjoy it. A lot."

"Well," she started hesitantly, "what about your lifeguard job?"

"Not expecting me today. I'm going to be looking after you all day, making sure you don't keel over after that accident. How are the bruises?"

"Still painful," she gave a half smile, "But I'll live. I hardly notice it now anyway." She took a sip of her coffee.

"So, d'ya fancy it? It'll be a laugh, I promise. Aaron will love it."

Her smile grew as she considered it. Aaron did seem to love animals and a day out sounded like just what they all needed. "Alright," she giggled, "I'd love that. Thanks, Desmond."

"You're very welcome," he grinned at her, his smile bringing a sort of warmth to her heart. And somehow, she couldn't find a way to break her gaze.

**Claire has just signed in**

**Charlie_Pace: **Good early afternoon.

**Claire: **Good early afternoon to you too.

**Charlie_Pace: **Thanks for ringing me earlier. That's a load off my mind.

**Claire: **Was Ana worried?

**Charlie_Pace: **You know her. I don't think she worries much about anything, especially stuff concerning me.

**Claire: **She's probably more relieved then you think.

**Charlie_Pace: **Doubt it, but thanks.

**Claire: **I can't see you later.

**Charlie_Pace: **Something come up?

**Claire: **Sort of.

**Charlie_Pace: **What is it?

**Claire: **Desmond is planning a day out at the zoo with me and Aaron.

**Claire: **Charlie?

**Charlie_Pace: **How positively wonderful of him.

**Claire: **It's just for today. To have a break from everything. And Aaron hasn't had a nice day out in ages. And I could hardly say no to Des anyway!

**Charlie_Pace: **No I get it, have fun.

**Claire: **Charlie!

**Charlie_Pace: **I hope he falls in the bloody lion pen, the cheeky sod.

**Claire: **You said you were okay with this.

**Charlie_Pace: **Well, I lied. Surprised?

**Claire: **Please don't make me feel bad about this.

**Charlie_Pace: **No, you're right. I'm sorry. You and Aaron have fun, yeah?

**Claire: **Thanks, Charlie. I'll see you later.

**Charlie_Pace: **How later?

**Claire: **I'll let you know when I do. Bye.

**Charlie_Pace: **Bye.

**Claire has signed off.**

Charlie shut down the computer and gnawed on his lip. Once again, his thoughts focused on Claire and Desmond together and his own hatred of the situation. He had agreed to this arrangement with Desmond and Claire, he had let Desmond live in the house that was meant for him. But once again he asked himself what had possessed him to make such a decision, such an arrangement that he knew would only frustrate and anger him. Then he always remembered - he knew Des would take care of Claire and the little one. And seeing as though Charlie could no longer do that, he decided to allow Desmond to take the job. He easily had a steady job, money, stability. He was probably better for Claire then Charlie was. Of course, this only made him angrier. Des had the life Charlie always wanted.

He got up and stretched, yawning. He noticed Ana with her head down on the table, her hair laid over the sheets of paperwork and her tanned arms spread across the wooden surface. Truthfully, he loved when she was like this. She was almost peaceful really. It was a lovely change to when she was awake. He sat down next to her and watched her sleep. She was almost a different person when she was like this and Charlie found this Ana to be a lot more endearing than Awake-Ana. And when her facial expression was soft and calm like this, Charlie often observed that she looked much like Paige.

She stirred, and Charlie sat back just in case she exploded in to a fit of rage at his observations of her. She merely pulled back the hair from her face and eyed him miserably. "We're broke," she muttered.

"That's problematic."

"I'm serious. We need money," she sighed, sitting back and rearranging the papers in front of her. "We can kiss goodbye to our new house."

"We'll get through it. I'm still going in to work tonight. Not letting some silly little accident get in the way," he smirked.

She didn't respond. Only rested her head in her hands. "I'm going to have to go back to work."

"As a cop? You can't!"

"And why the hell not?" she demanded as if Charlie had no authority to deny her. "You seemed insistent enough on me going back to work the other night."

"Well, because your mother won't let you for a start. And secondly, it's dangerous. Look what happened to me! Paige could have been fatherless. What if something happens to you out there?"

"What do you care?" she mumbled, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"I care if my kid doesn't have a mother anymore. What am I supposed to tell her when she's older, and she really needs her mum to be there for her?"

"Hey, I haven't been killed off yet!" she responded defensively. "Perhaps she'd be better off anyway."

Charlie leant forwards, shaking his head, "Why do you keep saying things like that? Is something wrong? Be honest."

"Look around you. What ISN'T wrong about any of this?" she demanded, glancing at him quickly.

Charlie exhaled shakily, "Look…perhaps I better go with you to your therapist again. Give you some support."

"No way," Ana shook her head vigorously and stood up, piling up the papers and shoving them back in to a plastic wallet.

"Why not?" he stood, following her. "Maybe it'd be better if I came along. We're both in this together after all, maybe he could help us both!"

"I'd really prefer you didn't," she insisted, placing the plastic wallet in to a larger folder that was neatly placed in to a bookcase.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, "But I mean it, you need to sort yourself out. It seems like ever since Paige was born, you've been acting….weird."

Ana felt her muscles tighten and she threw down the folder, "Oh, for God's sake. You don't KNOW anything about me, Charlie. Almost a year ago, I made the awful _awful_ decision to sleep with you, producing a baby that's half mine and, unfortunately, half yours. Now I am stuck here, with you. I have everyone telling me what I can and cannot do. I feel like I'm trapped in this freakin' nightmare. How do you expect me to act? How is anyone in this sort of situation supposed to act? This only proves, no good can come of having sex with you!"

"Well thanks very much," Charlie replied, mouth half open, unsure how to react.

"There you go again," she rolled her eyes, "You wanted to know what was wrong with me and there you have it; THIS is what's wrong with me."

"What do you expect me to do? Snap my fingers and magic this all away? Not gonna happen, love," he spat bitterly. "I have told you time and time again, we need to make the best of it. There is nothing either of us can do."

"I can't talk about this with you," she murmured, heading for the door.

"Fine! Don't!" he tried to swallow back the anger, "I was only trying to help!" he yelled as she slammed the door behind her. He kicked the wall in frustration. Why did this always have to happen?

* * *

Little Aaron laughed and pointed at the meerkats from his pram. A huge smile covered his face, his toothless grin making Claire laugh as she halted the pram, bent down beside her child and tickled his belly.

"Is that a smile, Aaron?" she cooed, her pink lips smiling with him, "Do you like the meerkats?" The baby grinned, waving his chubby arms, "Yes, those are meerkats!"

She got back to her feet and closed her eyes momentarily, absorbing the sun's rays. Luckily, the weather had warmed a lot more since yesterday and it was a perfect sunny day to enjoy a lovely day out.

"We might have to get him one of those for Christmas," she heard the familiar Scottish voice say. She opened her eyes to see Des walking over to them, indicating to Aaron's joyfulness upon seeing the animals, before handing her one of the ice creams he had clutched in his hands.

"Mmm, thanks," she smiled at him, taking the cone eagerly. She took hold of the pram again and they began to walk. Claire took a bite out of her ice cream, the sugary sweetness stimulating her tongue and the soothing coldness sliding down her throat. "Thanks again for this, Aaron is loving it," she told him enthusiastically, "I am too!"

"It's no problem. We've been through hell recently, haven't we? We deserve a treat now and then," he took a bite of his own vanilla ice cream, and then directed his gaze back to the blonde beauty in front of him. He laughed. "Claire."

She looked at him with a smile, "Huh?"

He nodded at her.

"What is it?"

His grin grew larger. "You have ice cream on your nose, sistah."

"Oh shoot," she felt her cheeks flushing red, a contrast to her pale complexion. She swiped at her nose briskly, "Is it gone?"

"Uh, not quite," Des chuckled.

She made a second attempt, "Now?"

"Here let me," he began, using his napkin to wipe the melting piece of ice cream from her fragile features. She gazed at him patiently. Desmond patted the tissue on her nose softly before pulling away slowly. "There we are. Lovely."

She glanced down with an embarrassed smile, pouting slightly, "Thanks."

He noticed her limping very slightly and her hand reached for her back as she closed her eyes in pain.

"You okay?" Desmond asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm alright," she insisted, "Just still a bit sore, you know?"

Desmond guided her over to a bench gently and helped her sit down, "You sure? Maybe we should see a doctor," he pushed over the pram and placed it next to the bench before sitting next to her.

"I'm sure it's perfectly normal," she told him, pushing back her blonde curls. "I suppose it was a bit ambitious to be out and about so soon after the accident."

"Is it just your back giving you trouble?"

"Mainly," she shrugged, rubbing at her shoulders, "Feels like it's in knots."

Desmond smiled. "Turn around," he told her, "I'll give you one of my famous massages."

She giggled. "Famous? How come I have never heard of them?"

"Well, obviously someone's been depriving you from the luxury," he teased, placing his hands on her bare shoulders and kneading his thumbs gently between her shoulder blades. Her skin felt soft against his hands, as if she were made of silk. His hands drifted down to the small of her snow-white back. "This where the pain is coming from?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her eyes closed, obviously enjoying his advances,."Hey, you _are_ really good at this."

"Wasn't just bragging, was I?" he smiled slightly as his hands firmly held her waist, his thumbs massaging the pained area.

"God, brag all you want," she smiled widely, sighing and moaning softly with relief. Desmond didn't reply. Her eyes snapped open. It was then she realised just how much the Scottish man was touching her. It wasn't necessarily inappropriate, but it was if she was going to continue denying her feelings for him. His hands stopped moving against her pale skin. It seemed he had realised too. He let go gently, clearing his throat.

"Uh, all better?"

She glanced down, blushing. She turned around slowly and faced him, a polite smile emerging, "Yes. Thank you."

He smiled back awkwardly, dimples forming in the creases of his clean shaven face, "You're welcome," he stood up and held out a hand to assist her. "Shall we? Sounds like little Aaron is getting bored."

She took his hand gratefully and got to her feet, eyeing the baby who squirmed and made little annoyed noises in his pram. Her pink lips formed a tiny smile and she nodded, taking hold of the pushchair. In some ways, she missed the baby Bjorn Charlie had made for Aaron. She kept it in Aaron's crib as a sort of blanket, right next to the toy polar bear Charlie had got him for his first birthday (an ironic joke but sweet nonetheless). She wondered if Aaron sensed Charlie from it, or if he remembered the man at all. It had been so long since they had all been together properly. She knew Charlie feared that he would never see Aaron again, or the little one would forget all about his existence and see him as a total stranger when he was older. Before they parted ways and Charlie moved in with the pregnant Ana-Lucia, Charlie had told her that Aaron would always have a special place in his heart, and that no matter what, he would always see the little child as his own. Claire was unsure how to react to this at first. She had been taken aback. Then it only made her realise how much she had wanted Charlie to be in Aaron's life. It warmed her heart that Charlie had formed a bond with her son. She had often dreamt about what their life would be like as a family. But he had a very different family now.

She felt an ache deep within her heart. Things never turned out how she wanted them to. She just had to be happy with what she had now. And she was relieved for Desmond's help. If it wasn't for him, she might have found herself all alone in this scenario. And it did make her smile to see Desmond get on so well with Aaron. What more could she have hoped for?

The man of her dreams, maybe?

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

"Ana?" a soft voice questioned, "Is there something you want to say? Are you having any more troubles?"

She fidgeted in her seat, snapping out of her anxious thoughts. "It's getting worse, doc," Ana mumbled, sitting awkwardly, "I don't know how much more I can take."

Doctor Finley leant forwards and stared at his patient carefully, "Tell me, how are things getting worse?"

"Well they certainly aren't getting better," she moaned with a frown.

"How are things with you and Charlie?"

"Pretty much the same," she shrugged. "Except the arguing has become more frequent, I think."

"And how about little Paige?"

Ana remained quiet.

"Ana-Lucia, in order for these sessions to be useful to you, you need to talk to me. Vent out all the emotions you don't feel comfortable expressing at home. Tell me the things you can't discuss with Charlie, or anyone else. It's why you're here. Are things better with Paige?"

She sat back in the chair and covered her eyes with her hand. "No," she swallowed. "Things are not better with her."

Her counsellor nodded sympathetically, "You know, Ana, postnatal depression is pretty common for women your age to experience." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "And considering your circumstances it's perfectly understandable."

"How is it understandable that I hate the sight of my own child?" she snapped angrily, chewing her bottom lip in frustration.

"No one is saying that."

"I'm saying it," she responded, breathing in shakily. "I can't feed her, I can't change her, I can't hold her, I can't even look at her. What kind of a mother do you call that?"

"You are not the only one who has felt like this. It gets better."

She scorned. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"I think you need to be honest with Charlie about this. I think you and him should come in for one session. Just one, so we can bring all this out in to the open and help you get through it."

"He's not coming in," she muttered hatefully. "He is not hearing about ANY of this."

"I know you're scared, Ana. You've been through so many tragedies, including the loss of your first child. But in the four months you saw me before that crash you improved tremendously."

Ana felt her heart beat faster. If only he knew how wrong he was. She hadn't improved at all. She had him fooled like a gullible child.

"You need to be honest with Charlie. Pretending will get you nowhere and I'm afraid the situation won't get any better for you if you continue in this manner."

She was silent for a beat, leaning forwards so her elbows rested on her knees and she rubbed her hands together anxiously. "You know, he almost got hit by a car the other day. He's fine but," she paused, her gaze drifting off to nothing in particular, "when I heard the news, apart from that damn plane crash, it was probably one of the most frightening moments of my life." She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "I want nothing more then to get rid of him," she laughed ironically, "But him leaving me to look after the baby alone is probably one of my biggest fears," she suddenly frowned. "I can't….do this without him."

"That makes perfect sense, Ana."

"Does it?" she scorned. "Sounds like nonsense to me."

"Look, I know how you feel about Charlie and I understand that the situation you're in has put pressure on you. You're angry, Ana, and in order to ease that pain and anger you're feeling, a serious change needs to be made in your life."

"Have you got a time machine?" she almost spluttered.

He raised his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. "One session," he repeated. "It's all I'm suggesting. And I'm sure he'll appreciate you asking him to come."

She let out a groan. "Fine. One session. But if I don't want anything discussed with him, it stays strictly between you and me, okay?"

"Absolutely," he insisted,."Anything you don't want him to know stays confidential."

"Terrific," she sighed.

* * *

It was nearly 5PM by the time Claire, Desmond and Aaron arrived home. Claire was hugging a sleepy Aaron close to her chest whilst Desmond helped lug in the pram and place it by the door. Claire laughed slightly as Desmond struggled with the damned thing, but eventually managed to put it in its correct place. She smiled as she stroked Aaron's blonde hair and Desmond approached her, dusting off his hands.

"Thank you so much, Des. I had a wonderful time and I know Aaron did too," she beamed, patting the infant's back as he snoozed.

"Not a problem at all, sistah. Happy to do it. And I had a blast an' all," he grinned widely at her before gently running a hand through Aaron's hair. "Wee one's already dropped off to sleep, eh?"

"He's tired out from all the fun," Claire explained, her pink lips forming in to a smile. "I'll put him in his cot. No doubt he'll be waking us up later wanting feeding!"

Desmond chuckled and watched her leave to put the baby to bed. His gaze was still intently fixed on her when she walked back in to the room.

"I'm just going to pop on the laptop and check my emails. Then afterwards I'll make us dinner as a thank you."

"I can make it if you want, it's no problem."

"No, don't be silly!" She pouted humorously. "Sit down, put your feet up and watch some telly. You've done enough already." She placed a soft hand on his shoulder affectionately. He looked down and smiled modestly before watching her leave to enter the study and switch on her laptop.

**Claire has just signed in.**

**Charlie_Pace: **Hello, stranger.

**Claire: **We must stop meeting like this.

**Charlie_Pace: **How was the zoo?

**Claire: **It was good.

**Charlie_Pace: **Good?

**Claire: **Yeah. Anyway how are you?

**Charlie_Pace: **Stressy. She's screaming, yelling, and being a real pain in the arse.

**Claire: **Well that's babies for you.

**Charlie_Pace: **Baby? I was talking about Ana.

**Claire: **Oh haha. She would murder you for that.

**Charlie_Pace: **She'd murder me for a lot of things.

**Charlie_Pace: **I have a question. How do you change your username on this thing?

**Claire: **You don't know? Seriously?

**Charlie_Pace: **Wait. Aha! I think I figured it out.

**Charlie: **Did it work?

**Claire: **How original.

**Charlie: **Bloody machine's playing up again.

**Claire: **You should be grateful you have a computer.

**Charlie: **Yes, I know. How often is it we talk on here? Our 'Other Halves' must think we're complete internet addicts.

**Claire: **Yes, we surf the net instead of finding jobs to feed our families.

**Charlie: **I have a job!

**Claire: **You play guitar at a club for tips.

**Charlie: **And what do you do?

**Claire: **Touché, Charlie Pace. But I will have a job soon. I don't even care where anymore.

**Charlie: **Ah, the joys of adulthood. Aren't you glad our lives turned out this way?

**Claire: **Not really but I'm smart enough to know we can't change the past.

**Charlie: **If only!

**Claire:** Indeed.

**Charlie:** Claire….something really weird just happened.

**Claire:** What?

**Charlie:** Ana just asked me to go to her therapy session with her tomorrow…Well I say ask, I mean 'told'.

**Claire:** That's good…right?

**Charlie:** Yeah. Maybe I'll find out why she's been acting so strange lately. I don't remember her being like this while she was pregnant. She was bad but this…I don't like it all. If anything I thought things were getting better and then when Paige was born we went straight back to, well, this.

**Claire:** You've never been to any of her other sessions?

**Charlie:** Only one. And things were just awkward. We didn't really sort out anything. I usually just leave them to it, you know. He knows her better, they saw each other before the crash.

**Claire:** Why was she seeing a therapist before the crash?

**Charlie:** I asked her once but I didn't like the look she gave me so I dropped it. I think it was something serious though.

**Claire:** Well…good luck. I have to go do boring adult stuff and make the dinner. See you later.

**Charlie:** I hope it's sooner rather than later. Aren't you coming to the club tonight?

**Claire:** We'll see about that. Bye.

**Charlie:** Bye.

"What do you fancy tonight?" Charlie asked, swivelling around in his chair, "Pork chops, or a pasta dish, or maybe even a take-a-way again if we're that lazy."

"Take-a-way?" Ana asked as she folded some clothes in to a laundry basket.

"Like I said last time, I believe you call it a take-out?" He sat back.

"Oh. Fine, I don't care."

"I'll make the call," he sighed, jumping out his seat, "You fed Paige?"

Ana bit her lip and shook her head, "Busy."

"Yeah, yeah. Alright. I'll do it in a minute," he mumbled as he picked up the phone and dialled. "Still think you should reconsider about the breast-feeding."

"As you would say, Charlie: _Bugger off_," she rolled her eyes, grabbed the basket and disappeared in to the other room.

"So that's still a no then?" he called after her sarcastically before addressing the person on the other end of the line, "Yes, hello. I'd like to make an order."

Ana threw the basket on the floor before sorting her clothes in to her draws. She dreaded tomorrow and her therapy session with Charlie. She never liked to open up to him. The night they slept together and Paige was conceived was perhaps the only time Charlie had seen her so vulnerable. She had never cried much, she wouldn't allow herself to become that weak, as if it were the universe's mission to see her cry and mock her silently because of it. But since then, she had found it hard to stop. No one else knew this of course, except Doctor Finley, but nowadays she cried more often than ever before. And it made her detest herself even more.

She opened up a draw to reveal her old police uniform. She hadn't worn it in years and it was painful to see it folded up so neatly, unused. She liked how she looked in it, and the power it gave her. Power she had occasionally abused, a power she once used to help people with. Now it was just a miserable reminder.

She wandered out in to the corridor where she saw Charlie sitting on the sofa happily with the little baby wrapped up in his arms and a bottle in his hand. She looked so content with him. The scene looked so natural. And she couldn't help thinking how unnatural it would be if she were in that scene, holding Paige. She chewed on her lip and swallowed, listening to Charlie talk softly to the small child. The infant didn't cry once, she didn't even make a sound. And Ana only wished she could have that sort of reaction from her whenever she held her. Nowadays, she just stopped trying. It wasn't natural or right for her. Some women seemed made for motherhood, their children meant everything to them. But Ana couldn't help thinking how easy it would be for her to walk out the front door and never come back. She felt her eyes sting and she glanced down just as Charlie looked up to see her standing there.

"I ordered Chinese. Then I gotta go to work and earn us some much needed cash." He exhaled again and slowly got to his feet, kissing the baby's fluffy brunette head.

She only nodded, avoiding his gaze. "I'm gonna take a shower," she muttered before leaving his sight and vanishing off in to the bathroom.

* * *

Claire hummed to the tune of "Catch a Falling Star" as she turned on the stove and danced over to the cupboards. She pulled out a packet of pasta shapes and poured them in to the boiling water.

"Need any help?" Desmond appeared at the door, his shirt hugging his body tightly.

She held her breath when she saw him. "No, I'm good," she smiled politely, pulling her blonde curls away from her face. He leant against the door frame, watching her. "Actually," she began, "Can you pass me the tomato sauce? And the tuna?"

"Can do," he replied, grabbing the jars and handing them over to her. She took them gratefully. "Tuna pasta? Sounds delicious."

"You're good at massages, I'm good at making tuna pasta," she laughed. "They used to make it a lot at the restaurant I worked at back home." She sighed.

"You miss it there? Home, I mean?"

She pondered on it for a moment. Then looked at him with those large blue eyes."Nah. This is my home now. What about you? Miss it in Britain?"

"Well the weather's a lot better here, I'll say that much," he chuckled and she bit her lip, smiling.

"Oh, looks like it's nearly ready," she told him, mixing in the tuna. "There's some veggies too if you want to serve up."

"Smells gorgeous," he commented, collecting the plates.

"Wait until you try it," she winked at him humorously.

* * *

Another difficult day was washed from Ana-Lucia's tanned skin as the hot water drenched her body. The steam filled the room and the water was a nice relief as it hit her face. This was her quiet time, her alone time. When she could reflect on the poorness of her life and let loose her frustrations without being judged by anyone else. She thought about what they had discussed today and what she had been through. The arguments, the analysing of her circumstances and fears. The apparent resolution that would magically make everything better. She couldn't talk about those things with Charlie. It was unthinkable. She didn't want his judgements, or his pity.

Loosing her child had been a painful experience. It had hardened her, made her bitter, bitchy. But that was how she had dealt with the situation. It was how she survived. Charlie wouldn't understand that. He was the complete opposite to her. Granted, she noted some similarities, particularly when everyone suspected him of using drugs on the island - that was one of the reasons why she let herself give in to him in the first place - because they had both been loners, and they had nobody else.

And this ridiculous fear? This fear that Charlie would somehow disappear and leave her to look after a child she had no interest in taking care of by herself? She had lived with this fear for months. The thought of him not being here, leaving her to do all those things expected of a mother made her shudder. She wasn't a mother. Charlie was a father AND a mother. Ana was just….there. That wasn't right, was it? She had often wondered what motherhood would have been like with her first baby, and occasionally found herself looking forward to it in her early days of pregnancy. It was a challenge, right? And she had someone she loved there to get through it with her that time. But it wasn't to be.

She feared history would repeat itself. Only, the role of Danny was taken by a washed-out, know-it-all British ex-rock star (who she was ashamed to call the father of her child), and the little baby was actually here. It was _real_. If Charlie was to be absent from her life, Ana wouldn't know what to do. And she felt like even she would find his absence disconcerting for her own convenience.

God, how had she allowed her life to end up like this?

She felt her face scrunch up and a tear roll down her face, unnoticeable as the warm water streamed down her cheeks. Just as her crying was inaudible due to the sound of the water running. This was _her_ time.

* * *

Desmond speared the food with his fork, raising it to his lips and emptying it in to his mouth. Claire watched with anticipation for his approval. He savoured it, felt his tongue familiarise itself with the flavours, and felt his stomach beg for more. He licked the sauce from his lips and nodded with an approving smile. "Claire, this is delicious," he told her, already collecting more of it on to his fork from his plate. "You're a brilliant cook."

She felt herself brighten at the comment and she blushed before helping herself to her own portion. "I suppose it makes a nice change from frozen food and ready meals."

Des nodded again with an "mmm" as his mouth was already full again.

"What kind of food did you eat when you were locked in that hatch?" she asked him curiously, chewing on a small portion of the pasta.

"Nothing as good as this," he laughed, glancing at her pretty face quickly.

She took a sip of her red wine, which she had suggested they have a long with their meal seeing as though they were treating themselves tonight, and she noticed the muscles in his arms move slightly as he ate. She swallowed hard and shook her head to snap herself out of her trance.

"You look lovely tonight," Des commented quickly, though he had been thinking it for a while now. "You changed your clothes?"

She glanced down at her short evening dress and beamed with the flattery. "Thank you. Thought it would go with the mood this evening. I just threw it on while you were helping to serve up," she told him, but in reality had spent minutes upon minutes changing her outfit and choosing which dress showed off her smooth legs and gave her a cleavage. She had no idea why she was trying so hard to impress a man she shouldn't be impressing, then found herself lost in his eyes and questioned why she hadn't tried even harder with her appearance. There was something about him that made her feel as though she should put in an effort.

It was only until they had finished their meal that Claire remembered Charlie would be at the club by now, waiting to meet her after his performance. But Desmond was looking at her now quite expectantly, with those deep brown eyes of his which begged her to stay and continue to gaze in to them. She granted them their wish; it was too late now, and she hadn't made any promises. She wasn't in the mood to lie and sneak around to fulfil her and Charlie's secret desires tonight. She was quite content sitting here with Desmond, eating cheesecake.

"I forgot how delicious cheesecake was," Desmond commented, making conversation.

"It usually is," Claire shrugged. "Don't know what's wrong with this one."

"What do you mean?" he asked, chewing on a particularly mouth-watering piece.

Claire pouted again and poked at the thing with her fork. "It's dry," she complained, "I'm sorry. It looked good in the shop. It's not creamy at all, either. And the base isn't nearly as crumbly enough."

Desmond wrinkled his nose. "Mine's fine. Let me try it."

She raised her fork and he leant over the table to gently sample the piece of unsatisfying cheesecake. He sat back, continued to chew, and expressed a series of different facial expressions. Claire tilted her head slightly and watched with confusion. "Well?"

"Tastes just like mine," he shrugged with a half-smile.

"Well then the whole thing must be off or something," she frowned getting up and grabbing the plates.

"No, no," he insisted, grabbing her arm and at his touch, she instantly froze, "It tastes just fine, Claire. Honestly."

She blushed and sat back down. "If you say so," she smiled saccharinely, and Desmond thought she looked as sweet as the cheesecake.

"Thanks for this," he told her, spontaneously finding his hand on top of hers."I had a great evening. A great day, even. I can't remember the last time I felt like this." There was truth in his words. He knew the only time he had felt these feelings were with Penny, but at that moment he couldn't envisage when or where. It was if she were a pleasant yet painful memory that was beginning to float away and be lost forever. And strangely enough, he found himself not caring.

Her heart beat wildly and it took all her might not to take his large, warm hands and bring them to her pale cheeks or to her wet lips, "It's my pleasure," she told him, "It's the least I could do, after everything you've done for me and Aaron."

Their eyes locked together for what seemed like hours, and Claire had to break away to remind herself she couldn't fall for this man. It was getting and harder and harder to resist those tanned muscles, or dark eyes, or Scottish accent of which she often found herself smiling or giggling at. It had gotten to the point where she was fed up of just looking and wanted to try the Scottish man for herself. To see what he felt like, what he tasted like. And then she often scolded herself for thinking such adulterous thoughts, and her heart reminded her of her love for Charlie. Her sweet Charlie, who would be heartbroken if he were to find out about her lustful obsession for his enemy.

Then she thought of Ana-Lucia and the sickening image of her and Charlie together, and she questioned why she shouldn't hurt Charlie the way he had hurt her.

She cleared her throat, felt her heart ache, and suggested they get on with clearing up the remainder of their dinner.

* * *

Charlie's fingers began to sting as he continued to strum his guitar on stage and it didn't help that his head still ached from the accident yesterday. He sung the lyrics with a dry mouth and promised he would get himself a drink or two afterwards. Usually Claire was here by now but he could not see her among the small crowd who sat at their tables and ignored his music by engaging in idle drunken chatter. He sighed inwardly, reflecting on what his career had become. He had ended up right where he started.

He still thought back to the old days, when it was him and the boys. When he and his brother were close friends, and created music for fun. The reaction to their performances had been immense, and he had no doubts when he claimed it was one of the best things he had ever experienced. It was just a shame that it lead to such a dark stage in his life. A nightmare rather than a fulfilled dream.

He understood why Liam hadn't wanted to reunite the band. Having a family was a responsible job, and Charlie could see why he didn't want to get mixed up in all that craziness again. He couldn't imagine juggling his family life with his rock-star lifestyle now. It was unthinkable, and he felt guilty for trying to force Liam to leave his wife and daughter for that reason. Since his return, the boys had made up and straightened out all the issues that had been left lingering between them. That had given Charlie a little more reassurance in approaching the next chapter of his life, with a family of his own to support and care for.

He played one last song before glancing at his watch. 8pm. That's it, he thought with relief, time for a drink. He set down the instrument and climbed off the stage to an almost inaudible and messy applause. He nodded a brief thanks and headed towards the bar before a young woman practically jumped in front of him.

"Oh my God! You're Charlie Pace, aren't you?"

Charlie's face brightened, "Yeah, that's me."

"Can I get your autograph?"

He felt as though a weight had been lifted from him and all his energy came springing back to him. She recognised him! A grin emerged across his face. "Course you can!" She handed him a pen and paper and he began to write his name across it in the black ink. "Are you a fan then?"

"Kind of!" she beamed, "It's just so amazing to be in the same room with you. I saw you on the news and in the papers! I mean, you survived that plane crash with hardly a scratch on you. Amazing!"

Charlie felt his face fall in to a frown at the disappointment. Of course he had been recognised for that once again, and not his musical talents. This woman knew nothing about him, only the fact that he had survived a tragic accident, and she probably cared about nothing else. He forced a polite smile and handed her back the autograph. She thanked him and left him alone again. He dropped his head and sighed before getting that much-needed drink.

"The usual please, Lisa," he told the barmaid before miserably slouching on to one of the barstools. She set a glass in front of him and he downed the contents with ease, the liquid pleasantly slipping down his throat. He looked at the time again. Where was she? He missed her, needed her. He wanted the smell of her blonde hair in his face and the sensation of her soft touch against his skin. Perhaps she was still shaken up from the accident, or she was simply trying to avoid him? He bit down hard on his lip. The thought of Desmond Hume entertaining her all day, looking after her and keeping her company infuriated him and he shuddered at the thought. He ordered another drink.

* * *

Desmond and Claire had moved to the kitchen where they sipped the remainder of their wine. Claire leant against the side opposite him, giggling wildly,

"Okay. My turn! I Never had a crush on a teacher at school," she said with a suspicious smirk, refusing to sip her drink for this round. Desmond paused, then sighed, then drank. Claire widened her eyes and smiled widely, "Who?"

"I was 16 and it was my history teacher, Ms Manson," Desmond cringed, shrugging.

The woman wrinkled her nose and leant back. "For some reason when you say 'history teacher', I imagine a 50-something dusty old man who's as boring as hell."

"Well she definitely made history class more interesting," he shrugged again before chuckling. Claire shook her head and laughed with him. Desmond cleared his throat,

"Hmmm, I Never cheated on a test," he stated, holding his drink away from him. Claire bit her lip and guiltily sipped her drink. Desmond pointed at her accusingly. "YOU'VE cheated on a test? I can't believe it."

She rolled her eyes humorously. "Don't tell me you've never even copied a friend's answers so you'd get a higher mark!"

Des shook his head and held his hands up. "Nope. I'm as good as gold."

"We'll see about that," she remarked teasingly. "Now you've had to have this one; my friends always had this problem when we were kids - I've never fantasised about a friend's lover." She watched his expression suddenly become very grave, and she almost gasped. Had she just done that? Had her mind done it deliberately, just to confirm his feelings for her? She sensed something between them and it was obvious he cared for her, but she often wondered whether her feelings were reciprocated in quite the same way.

He stared in to her eyes, almost icily, though he revealed a half-smirk and raised his glass high. "Got me there." He closed his eyes and drank the remainder of the wine.

Her cheeks burned red. How stupid she had been! She silently cursed herself for embarrassing them both and offered Des a brief smile before frowning again and collecting the empty glasses. She took his and avoided his gaze, placing the glass on the counter behind him. He didn't look away from her and she felt his stare as if he had been touching her. She looked up at him slowly and forced that serene smile of hers.

"I better get to bed, Desmond. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Instinctively, she found herself standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She lingered too long and wasn't sure what to do next. She pulled away slowly, finding that her hands had fought their way to his chest. The urge to break her silent vow was more powerful than ever. But at that moment her secret rule wasn't even occurring to her. She could feel his warm breath on her now, and his hot skin felt pleasant against hers. She trembled, closed her eyes, and leant her head forward to feel another pair of lips meet hers.

She felt his mouth upon hers, and he kissed her. Gentle at first. But then he tilted his head the other way and kissed her harder. She felt those warm hands envelope her and squeeze her against him. One of hers disappeared in to his hair, which she ran her hand through madly, while the other hand massaged his firm chest.

At the bar, Charlie frowned and ordered himself another drink.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

"Des," she panted for breath, her forehead resting against his, "Desmond, wait."

Desmond almost hadn't heard her. They were against the kitchen door, her back against it and his arms surrounding her as if to prevent escape. But as soon as he heard her request he pulled away with hesitance and allowed her freedom.

She caught her breath, watching his own chest rise and fall quickly. He stared at her, somewhat bewildered and surprised at his own actions. She swallowed anxiously, "I'm sorry, Des. I can't."

He shook his head briskly. "No, I'm sorry, Claire." He hoped she didn't think any less of him. "I didn't mean -"

"Nor did I, it's okay. I just…I don't think this is a good idea." She still felt out of breath even now. "It would just make everything more complicated and I just don't think we should…I'm so sorry." Her cheeks burned hotter than ever before.

"I understand, really. Honestly, I didn't intend for that to happen." Had he imagined it? Yes. Intended for it to happen in reality? No. Not like this. For exactly this reason.

Claire seemed flustered. "Right. I'm so sorry. I need to…I need to go to bed. Uh, alone. By myself. Right. I'm sorry, goodnight," she babbled, and she disappeared in to her bedroom, the door slamming shut.

Outside Desmond bit down hard on his tongue and punched the air with frustration. His hands met his face and he shook his head with embarrassment. That had been absolute perfection and disaster at the same time. She had been everything he thought her to be, and more. How desperately he wanted to go in there and finish that kiss. But he wouldn't. Not if Claire didn't want him to. She was right, it would make everything complicated. They lived together, she had a son she needed to take care of. And somehow Desmond couldn't shake the feeling that in someway, somehow, this was partly Charlie's fault.

* * *

It was almost 10pm at night by the time Charlie returned. Earlier than usual, but still late. He hadn't been with Claire tonight, but had found company in the bitterly satisfying taste of the endless glasses of alcohol Lisa the barmaid continued to serve him at his request. After several minutes of trying to stab his key through the keyhole, the door swung open and a dark, powerful glare settled upon him.

"Oh, for God's sake."

Ana let him stumble through the door and she crossed her arms angrily.

"Do I even have to ask what you got up to after your shift?"

"Just had a few drinks, tha'ssall," he slurred miserably, collapsing on to the sofa, where he knew he would be spending the night.

"Something happen at work?" she asked bitterly, slamming the front door shut.

"No," he pouted childishly, slouching in his seat. "A girl asked me for my autograph."

"Poor girl," she muttered, heading towards the closet. "She must be deranged."

Charlie ignored her, fell on to his back, and complained of feeling nauseous. Ana had already fetched a bucket and dropped it on the floor beside him, as she did last time she found him drunk.

"What was it you were saying the other day about stability?" she scorned as she looked down on him.

He frowned and looked up at her like a small child who had lost their favourite toy. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit down beside him. She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance.

"D…do you believe," he stammered, "that there is one person for everyone? Whassit called?" he mumbled hazily. "True love?" He laughed bitterly and Ana stared at him as if he were insane.

"Excuse me?"

She noticed his pink eyes swell and she looked away so he could preserve whatever dignity he had left. This guy was the father of her child. Pathetic.

"You know," he squeezed her wrist, "when you're…you're destined to be with one person annit's meant to be."

"No," she felt his sweaty hands start to burn her skin. "I don't. And if you do then you're an idiot."

He closed his eyes in anguish. "Ughh, I am an idiot. Such a SODDING idiot," he clutched his stomach, then his head. "And I drank too much. Idiot!"

She sighed, "I'll get you some water."

When she returned he pulled her down again and she had to set the glass on the coffee table before she spilled it all over him. "What now?"

He smiled a sickly drunken smile at her and placed a loose stand of her hair behind her ear, before smoothing his hand down her cheek, neck, arm and finally down the curve of her hip which felt pleasant against his hot palm. This made her tremble slightly. "I was just wondering', " he began sleepily, "What it would be like if I had been in love with you."

She stared at him with surprise yet disdain and pity. "Like I said, you're an idiot." Though she insulted him with less force in her voice. "And you're wasted." He responded to this with ironic laughter before he had to dip his head in the bucket and feel his stomach contract painfully. Ana rolled her eyes and pulled away from him. "Goodnight," she spat before turning off the lights and leaving the drunken mess in darkness.

* * *

Claire Littleton hugged herself tightly as she lay awake in bed. She tossed and turned and tried to sleep, but she couldn't stop replaying the evening's events in her head. She still tasted Desmond's thick and pleasant lips, felt the ghost of his touch on her body. She bit her lip, turned on her back and imagined the hot Scotsman returning to finish what he had started.

A knock at the door. Her mouth dropped. It flew open and there was Des; topless, bulging with muscles, a hungry look in his eye.

He approached her silently, seriously, and took hold of her almost viciously. It was impossible to speak, for the man had pressed his lips to hers and pushed her down on to her bed. She hadn't resisted, and responded by wrapping herself around him and returning his passionate kisses.

It was then she sat up, her body drenched in sweat, and she realised she was alone. She breathed deeply and felt her heart recovering. It had been a dream, that was all. A dirty, shameful dream. She considered getting herself a glass of cold water and pouring it all over herself. Instead, she buried her face in her pillow and groaned miserably. How awful she could be!

Meanwhile, Charlie lay his head on the arm of the sofa, shaking violently every now and again. The nausea had currently ceased and he took this as a chance to attempt drifting of to sleep. But his mind whirred and buzzed like a mechanical machine, tormenting him with reminders of all the hopes and dreams he had successfully managed to destroy. He had taken his own advice and had tried to stay positive, but every now and again the reality caught up with him and he needed a night off to escape. That always landed him in trouble. It was thinking like that which had started this fiasco in the first place.

He frowned deeply and inhaled, rubbing at his sore eyes with his sleeve. He knew if Claire had shown up he wouldn't have needed an alternative escape, but he missed her like hell and a wave of self-pity and regret told him his brain needed a break. It hadn't helped much, but at least it distracted him if not only for a short while. He clutched his burning head and winced, hoping that Claire, whatever she was doing, was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her.

The next morning Claire awoke earlier than usual, a lump in her throat. She had managed to sleep after all, but after her first dream her imagination had begun to present her with more disturbing images. She stretched in her bed as the morning sun shone through the window and she began to remember more and more of her previous dreams. Frowning, she grabbed her journal and decided to write them down, along with her experiences from the previous night.

Once she had scribbled down her encounters with Desmond (real and dream), she bit her lip and started to recall her last dream.

_I dreamt I was back on that scary island again. Charlie was there. I dreamt that he had died and I was so miserable. I cried and cried. I cried the whole ocean. I don't remember Aaron being there. I remember being alone. And I missed Charlie so much. I cried so much I felt so exhausted when I woke up. I wonder if this is a reflection of my feelings for him. So many times I've considered ending this thing between us. But whenever I think about never seeing him again I feel like screaming in to my pillow. I love him too much to lose him. But I can't be with him. Not properly. _

_This sucks._

She placed the diary safely back in her draw, fearing the reactions of any one else who might read it and discover her dark secrets. She lay back and spread herself across her bed for a moment, taking advantage of it's large comfortable size. She could lie here all day she decided. She wouldn't have to face anyone, or lie to anyone, or be someone's mummy. She could just relax and be herself.

A strange thump snapped her out of her thoughts and any fantasies of lazing away in bed vanished. She slipped on her thin dressing gown and left her bedroom to investigate. The source appeared to be her own son, who was covered in baby food and had thrown his beaker on the floor, giggling with amusement. Claire entered the kitchen to see Desmond frantically grabbing bits of kitchen roll to wipe the mess away and attempt to feed the little infant.

"Des?" she asked, screwing up her face with confusion.

Des spun around and his features formed an apologetic expression. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you. Aaron was hungry and, well, I was trying to feed him."

She laughed, "I can see that."

"Seems like he's more interested in wearing his food then eating it," he explained, trying to get Aaron to open his mouth and eat the contents on the little silver spoon.

Aaron pursed together his little lips and shook his head vigorously, "No!" he cried, "No! No! No!"

"There he goes again," Desmond sighed, "Why 'No', Little Man? I thought you were hungry!"

Aaron screwed up his chubby fist, "No." And then he giggled. Claire giggled too.

"It's okay. Let me," she said taking the spoon, "Come on Aaron, here comes the - dare I say it - aeroplane!"

"Let's hope THIS one gets to its proper destination," Des joked ironically. Miraculously, Aaron opened his mouth and the baby-food-plane arrived safely in his little tummy. Claire kissed his fluffy head and fed him the rest.

"Good boy, Love ya," she rubbed his head lovingly and started to clear up.

Desmond stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sleep well?" he asked Claire after clearing his throat.

She swallowed nervously and nodded, "Uh-huh. You?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied with a small shrug, "I, uh…I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"It's okay, Des. No need to explain."

"I feel as though I should. I am so sorry that happened, honestly. I don't want you to think I'm…taking advantage or something. And I certainly don't want to complicate anything for you."

"It's okay, I understand," she blushed, "We were both drinking, and silly, and we should have been more responsible for our actions. It's fine, really. It meant nothing." She hardly looked at him.

He nodded and forced a sad smile, "Right. Exactly." He observed her washing up, with those silly yellow gloves on, and he stepped outside to take a shower.

Claire sighed and glanced at the baby getting agitated in his high chair. He wasn't the only one feeling such frustration.

* * *

Ana awoke to the sound of a baby's screech, and she buried her head in the pillow hoping that the hung-over father would deal with it. Apparently not. She waited five minutes until she couldn't take it anymore. She sprang up and walked quickly towards the tiny child's room, passing a half-dead Charlie clutching his head on the way.

"Alright!" she yelled. "Alright, I'm here! What is it? What do you want?"

The baby's pink features were screwed up so tightly, she hardly looked human anymore. Her cheeks were damp and the tears continued to stream down her face. Ana looked at it expectantly, as if the baby would simply stop crying and tell her what it was that was the matter. Clueless, she picked up the child so that her hands grabbed her under the armpits and realised that she most likely needed changing.

Ana wrinkled her nose in disgust and placed Paige back in her crib. She looked around frantically, her hands in the air as if they were now germ-ridden. At that moment, Charlie floated in sleepily, rubbing his sore eyes.

"Where are the diapers?" she asked him, "Are we out?"

Charlie's shoulders fell in realisation and he leant against the door frame lazily, rubbing at his nose and breathing in the morning air, "I think she used the last one yesterday. I can get some more if you like."

Ana felt her heart beat. Perfect. "No," she told him, "I'll get them." she practically ran towards the door. "Deal with her!" she called, throwing on her jeans and jacket before disappearing from the flat.

The sound of the door slamming mixed with the infant's annoying screaming made his head burn even more. He'd have to take some pills before he went to Ana's session later. Great, he thought, was that such a good idea? Oh well. No turning back now. Charlie leant over the crib and smiled, tickling the child's tiny little chin, "Hey, shhh. Don't cry. New nappies are on the way," he reassured her, not that she understood what he was saying. But she calmed all the same and grabbed on to his finger in such a way that he began to feel an emotional lump in his throat. That was apparently enough to make him forget about his hangover altogether.

* * *

Desmond tried to cleanse himself of his previous thoughts and actions, scrubbing at his warm skin and wiping away the lingering feeling of Claire's touch. He felt terribly embarrassed to have caused such awkwardness between them, and even more embarrassed knowing that Claire had completely regretted it. As much as Des tried to deny it, there was a part of him that was glad to have finally kissed the beautiful Australian woman. So often had he observed her and imagined such an encounter. But obviously the timing, the situation, was all horribly wrong. Or, of course, she didn't feel the same way about him as he did about her. Perhaps that kiss had been a moment of weakness for her and the connection and attraction between them had been utterly one-sided. Desmond bit the inside of his cheek and felt the warm water pour down his body.

He got quite a shock when he stepped out the shower and reached for a towel. Before he got a chance to cover himself up, the door swung open and he saw Claire walk in, oblivious to Desmond's presence. When she glanced up they both gasped and Claire's hand flew up to her mouth.

"I'm so sorry!" she squealed, covering her eyes and feeling her way back out the bathroom. Desmond wrapped the towel around his waist and reassured her that it was okay as the door slammed shut.

Claire leant against the other side of it and felt her face flush redder than ever before. After a moment, she bit down on her bottom lip with amusement, thinking back to what she saw, and giggled to herself like a schoolgirl.

* * *

"It was totally irresponsible and you have my word that it will never happen again," promised Charlie as he finished changing the gurgling infant on the table in front of him. "There you go," he said softly to the baby."All nice and clean!"

"You said that last time," mumbled Ana-Lucia as she watched from a safe distance. "About the drinking. And it's happened again."

"Well I'm serious this time," he replied before tapping Paige's tiny nose and placing her gently back in to her crib. He faced Ana seriously. "I feel terrible about it. It was selfish of me. It won't happen again."

"I'm not mad, I get why you did it," she shrugged. "Sometimes I feel like hitting the bar and losing myself in a few drinks - and don't worry, I won't…I'd just prefer that you weren't out spending money on getting wasted while I'm stuck here with…" she sighed, "our kid."

"Like I said," he insisted, "It's not going to happen again. I've got it under control. I swear."

"Alight," she shrugged before leaving the room to head in to the kitchen area. "If you say so."

"And, uh, I'm still coming to your session today. Just reminding you," he said, wiping his hands clean.

"Perfect. I'm looking forward to it," she muttered with sarcasm whilst she poured herself a bowl of cornflakes - the last in the box, "By the way, whatever you find out in that session…I don't wanna talk about it anywhere else, okay?"

"It sounds serious," Charlie replied, leaning against the kitchen counter opposite from her. "Are you sure you want to do this? Can't we just….talk here?"

"What did I just say?" she frowned deeply, almost slamming the empty box down on to his hand. "No, we'll do the session, get it over with. You'll know everything you need to and we then can just pretend it never happened."

"Alright," he said slowly with a small shrug. "If that's what you want."

"I'll call my mom and check if she can still look after the baby," she sighed as she grabbed the phone. "Unfortunately she's a busy woman. Doing her job, being useful."

"She's not a full-time mum to three-month-old at the moment," Charlie pointed out.

"Lucky her."

Charlie frowned at the comment before turning his back and dropping himself in to his computer chair. He was curious as to what this session was going to be about. On the one hand, he was happy that Ana-Lucia seemed to be opening up to him and that he might find out why she was acting so cold. Of course, Charlie was used to her behaviour. But maybe communicating to her about it in this session may fix whatever problems they had. But on the other hand, he was somewhat afraid of what he might find out.

His thoughts once again moved on to Claire and he turned to his computer.

**Charlie has just signed in.**

**Claire has just signed in.**

**Charlie:** Nice timing.

**Claire: **What?

**Charlie: **Nothing. You weren't at the bar last night.

**Claire:** Oh, yeah, I'm so sorry about that. I lost track of time.

**Charlie: **What on earth were you doing, anyway? Playing Scrabble with the Scottish Prophet?

**Claire: **What if I was?

**Charlie: **Then I'd question why you'd rather spend your time with him rather than me.

**Claire: **You're doing it again.

**Charlie: **What?

**Claire: **Being paranoid.

**Charlie:** Right.

**Claire:** You know I'd have been with you if I could.

**Charlie**: I know. I just missed you.

**Claire: **Me too. How about we meet up tonight?

**Charlie: **Love to.

**Claire: **Good, then it's sorted.

**Charlie: **Yep.

**Claire: **How are things with you today anyway?

**Charlie: **Wonderful. She's stopped yelling, is calm for once and isn't giving me a hard time…yet.

**Claire**: Oh right, and how's Paige?

**Charlie: **I was talking about Paige.

**Claire:** Oh!

**Charlie:** Honestly, Claire!

**Claire:** Sorry, you have so many girls in your life right now!

**Charlie: **Usually I would be quite happy about that.

**Claire: **I'm sure you would be, Casanova.

**Charlie: **You haven't told me, how's my little mate Aaron?

**Claire:** He's fine. He's playing with his polar bear. I was going to join him in a minute.

**Charlie: **I can't believe how big he's getting. I remember when he was born!

**Claire:** I wonder how many women can say they've given birth in the middle of the jungle.

**Charlie: **Probably not many.

**Claire: **Just proves how awesome I am.

**Charlie: **You are, you're an amazing mum. I don't know how you do it.

**Claire: **You're a good dad.

**Charlie: **Yeah?

**Claire: **Of course you are.

**Charlie: **I was thinking about Ana. The therapy session is today.

**Claire: **I hope you work something out. You know, she's a new mum. It's hard for some people. She'll get used to it.

**Charlie: **I guess I'll find out what's going on with her later. In the meantime I have some time to kill. I suppose I'll look up stuff on the internet I can't afford.

**Claire: **Are you just going to surf the net and buy everything you missed while we were stranded on that island?

**Charlie: **Hell yeah! Why do you think I have 15 boxes of banoffee pie in my kitchen?

**Claire: **Funny.

**Charlie: **Nah, I can't anyway. We're skint. Can't even afford these bloody amazing amps on eBay let alone a house. How I missed amplified sound!

**Claire: **Sorry to hear that, Charlie.

**Charlie: **It's fine. I've been broke before.

**Claire: **Except this time you have two other people to support.

**Charlie: **You just ruined my optimism.

**Claire: **Oops!

**Charlie: **It's okay, it's true anyway.

**Charlie: **I better go. Ana's mum is here.

**Claire: **Bye. Love you.

**Charlie: **And I love you. See you tonight!

**Charlie has gone offline.**

Claire closed her laptop and sighed to herself sadly. She felt as though she were lying to Charlie by not telling him about her kiss with Desmond. Even though she told herself it was nothing, she still had the urge to confide in someone. It seemed the only person she could talk to about anything was Charlie, and occasionally Des depending on what the subject was, but the only way she stopped herself from going crazy was writing down her feelings in her diary. Obviously, she couldn't discuss her recent problems with Charlie or Desmond, and she barely talked to Kate, Sun, or Hurley anymore. None of them used the internet as often as she and Charlie so an occasional phone call on birthdays and holidays was all she got.

She almost jumped when Desmond poked his head round the corner of the door, a sheepish expression on his face. "I was wondering if you wanted any lunch. PB&J sandwiches sound alright?"

She felt a smile emerge. "It sounds perfect." Des smiled too and she followed him in to the kitchen, past Aaron who was sucking his thumb and holding the toy polar bear close to his cheek. She smiled at the image before entering the kitchen and watching Des prepare the lunch.

She wet her lips and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Des, I'm so sorry about earlier. I forgot you were in there, honestly. I'm so embarrassed."

Des glanced at her briefly as he set out the bread. "Don't be. I'm not."

She swallowed and wrinkled her nose. "Really?

"Sure, it was only an accident, right?" He smiled at her and began to spread the peanut butter on the bread. "And it's not like I've got anything to hide," he chuckled, "Seriously, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Claire stuck out her lower lip, perplexed, her forehead creased, "Uh…good. I'll make sure to knock next time."

He laughed and handed her one of the sandwiches. "Enjoy."

She took it gratefully and dug in immediately. "Mmmm. Can never get enough of this stuff." She took her plate in to the next room and sat on the sofa near Aaron.

"I wonder if he'll be as obsessed with peanut butter as you are," Des indicated to the boy as he sat down next to Claire.

"I'm not obsessed," she pouted, mouth full.

"It's like an addiction," he teased.

"Mmmffff," she responded incoherently, mouth stuffed.

Desmond chuckled and took a bite of his own sandwich. Claire watched him and couldn't help picturing the image she had seen of him not long before. It shouldn't have surprised her why he wasn't embarrassed about her accidentally walking in on him, with him looking the way he did. She questioned how Penny could have ever let this gorgeous man out of her sight. She averted her gaze, telling herself she was falling in to that trap again. Perhaps she still needed that cold glass of water to throw over herself after all.

* * *

"Ah, Charlie! It's great to see you here again," Doctor Finley's smiling face welcomed him. But Charlie grimaced.

"What a _terrible _thing for a therapist to say," he said, shaking the man's hand before sitting down next to Ana-Lucia who looked as though she were trying to disappear inside herself. Charlie knew how she felt. Even his inappropriate humour didn't stop his stomach turning or his heart racing inside his chest.

Doctor Finley sat down behind his desk and examined the two individuals in front of him. Charlie, obviously oblivious to why he was here, sat back, his leg crossed over his thigh and his fingers somewhat nervously in his mouth. Ana-Lucia, who knew very well what she was going to confess today, had a frown on her. She was slumped low in her chair, her hands tapping on the arms of the seat, her leg, as a contrast, rooted to the floor. The doctor knew he had his work cut out for him today. He exhaled, glanced down briefly, and began the session.

"I'm not sure how much Ana has told you about this session, Charlie, but I believe it's very important to the both of you that you hear what she has to say."

"Alright," Charlie replied slowly, becoming more concerned by the second.

The doctor raised a hand towards her, "Ana?" He noticed her unease. "Take your time."

She sighed and hesitated, her eyes scanning the floor as if to search for a trap door she could escape down. Charlie's voice pulled her back in to reality, reminding her that there was no escape. "What is it?" he asked her, looking at her now with worried eyes.

She frowned and fidgeted slightly. She remained silent.

"Just, please, tell me," Charlie urged, "This has been driving me crazy." He turned to the doctor with agitation. "She never tells me anything. She's been this constant mystery ever since we met!"

Ana chewed on her lip and felt all her troubles, memories, feelings bubble up in her mind. "You know, I didn't always used to be like this." Charlie turned to her now, engaged in her words and eager to hear what she had to say. She swallowed and looked at him. "I used to be happy. I had a life!" Charlie looked like a child who had just been chastised, but let her continue.

She rubbed her eyes, debating with herself how to tell the gruelling story. She had only told it two or three times herself. It wasn't something she liked to talk about. But obviously Doctor Finley disagreed with her tactic to block the memory out by pretending it never happened. "I worked for LAPD before the crash, as you know. I had a boyfriend. Danny," she almost smiled at the memory of him before she remembered what an abandoning scumbag he really was. Hadn't even bothered to look her up after the rescue. Perhaps he never really loved her after all. She cleared her throat. "One night I get a call about a burglary. So I respond and check it out." She shook her head, "This guy runs out the front of the house. I tell him to put his hands up." Charlie noted that her breathing rate had increased. He shifted around in his seat uncomfortably. She inhaled deeply. She felt sick.

"It's okay, Ana," Doctor Finley encouraged her. "Go on."

"He tells me he's a student," there was hate in her voice now, "So he reaches for his ID. To this day, I have no idea what possessed me to let him. But I still let him. Like a moron, I let him. Just for one second. And that's all it took, one damn second," she felt her heartbeat in her gut, booming painfully, felt it in her ears, her brain. "He pulls out a gun and shoots me right here," she pointed at an area on her belly. Charlie watched her, shock in his expression. But what she said next stunned him so that he was truly paralysed with astonishment. She told him, with a mixture of hate and distress in her voice, that she had been pregnant at the time. "Kid saved my life," she muttered. "But I lost it. I was supposed to….you know, I could have…." she pursed her lips together before rolling her tongue along the inside of her cheek. "Can we stop this now?"

Doctor Finley leant forward, "Ana-"

"No," she snapped, standing up. "That's it. I'm finished. I did what you told me to," she barely looked at Charlie. "I'm not saying anymore. I need to leave." She grabbed her bag and her jacket and stormed out, leaving Charlie wide-eyed in his seat, lips parted as if struggling to speak. He pushed back his hair, blinking, mind racing.

"Should I…get her back?" he asked after a moment or two of speechlessness.

"No, it's better she takes a break," the doctor assured him,."This was hard for her to admit to you. But I made her recognise it would be better for both of you if you knew the truth."

"I'm sure it will be…" Charlie said quietly. "Once I…absorb all of it. I just…I…can't believe she kept this from me." Suddenly Charlie felt guilty for everything he had said to her, done to her, in contempt. Even this situation they had put themselves in with the baby, he felt tremendously awful for it.

"As I understand it, she's kept this from most people. It's something she's had to live with, struggle with, alone. She's told me you two have been having problems, and I hoped this would build a level of trust between you." Charlie felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he realised this man probably knew almost every aspect of his and Ana's relationship.

"I need to talk to her. Or just take all of this in," he rambled anxiously. "What I think I'm saying is, I need to get out of this room."

"I understand. If you want to come along and see me, with Ana, or even by yourself, I can arrange an appointment for you."

"Thanks," Charlie replied, though he didn't intend to take him up on that offer - not at all. He forced a smile as he got to his feet and escaped out of the front door.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Thank you SO much everyone for your reviews! There will be plenty Daire stuff/Chana stuff/PB&J stuff to come! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Before you read this chapter, I would like if everyone watched the trailer video I made for this fanfic, just to remind everyone what this story is about. You can find it here:**

*you*tube*.com/watch?v=nqzh8Z6TTZ8 (just get rid of the stars)

**There might be some spoilers for future chapters, but it's more of a teaser trailer to suggest what might happen. I also want to remind everyone that this story is a PB&J/Chana/Daire story - there is going to be plenty of interaction with all 3 ships. There is going to be betrayal and heartache and possibly some things that readers might not support. But that's the point. This story is about mistakes and forgiveness and angst. HOWEVER, there is plenty of light hearted and humorous moments too. As the trailer says, this is a story about love. I am not trying to make ANY of the characters unlikable. I am merely describing the ups and downs of the relationships in this story, and emphasising how each character is only human. I truly hope you all read the rest of this fic. I have the ending planned out already and well, lately I'm pretty in to happy endings so…I hope everyone will stick around to see how this all ends =D Thanks!**

**Jemma**

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* * *

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Desmond Hume sat on the beach, wrapped up in his yellow lifeguard jacket. God knows why anyone would fancy going to the beach now, but it was unusually warm for this time of year, and it was his job to watch over any maniacs that did decide to endure a dip in the ocean. A couple passed him and he noted the number "42" in block letters on the man's shirt. He only laughed ironically to himself, having learnt not to take such coincidences so seriously. That part of his life was over now.

He had wondered why he decided to take a job that reminded him so much of that bloody island. But then again, jumping in to danger, saving people. Wasn't he used to all that? It's what made him perfect for the job, and he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather be doing.

He'd been reluctant to leave Claire earlier that afternoon. They'd been having a pleasant lunch together, even if she had been embarrassed to see him in the nude. Whilst it had been a shock, Des only found the situation amusing, and only hoped Claire would stop finding the idea of seeing him naked so horrifying. He sighed, thinking back to that kiss. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to take things further. But the last thing he wanted to do was cause her more grief and confusion. Obviously, she was in a complicated state right now. She wasn't sure what she wanted. At least, that's what Des told himself. Perhaps a little more time is what she needed. But he had waited so long, and lusted after her like some pathetic, obsessive stalker. And, of course, he was sure his old friend Charlie was still on her mind.

While he didn't really have anything against the foolish Englishman, he had sensed a negative energy between them ever since Desmond had started to spend time with Claire on the island. He was a jealous, paranoid mess who couldn't regain the Aussie woman's trust no matter how hard he tried. His fault, Desmond told himself, but it didn't help mend their relationship when Desmond started witnessing troubling visions of his death.

Well, the insanity was all in the past. Now they all had to concentrate on the complicated present. He knew Charlie and Ana had a flat somewhere nearby, but he hadn't spoken properly to either in months. He assumed Claire hadn't either, but now he wasn't so sure. Apart from before that car accident of course. Now that made him suspicious. He shivered to himself, looking forward to when he would be moved to a warm swimming pool rather than the cool outside beaches.

* * *

Ana-Lucia practically kicked open her front door later that afternoon. She was greeted by her mother, who had already grabbed her jacket and had her mobile phone in her hand.

"Ana, good. I just got a call and I have to get down to the station. I was just trying to get hold of you."

"Well I'm here now, so you can leave," she mumbled, uncaring.

"Are you alright? Where's Charlie? Did everything go okay at your session?" Theresa asked with concern, tilting her head sideways as she tried to analyse the pain on her daughter's face.

She inhaled sharply, "It went fine. I'm fine." Theresa didn't move. "Look if they need you, you better go. I'll see you later. Thanks for looking after the baby."

"I just put her down but she's been agitated all day. I think she misses her parents."

Ana scorned at that but Theresa didn't question it, "Bye, mom."

Without another word, Theresa simply nodded and left. Ana stood there like a statue, glued to the spot, gazing in to infinity, mind processing all that had happened in her life. Re-living it like a bad movie playing in her head.

She heard the baby crying and she cursed to herself in Spanish. Reluctantly, she dragged herself to Paige's crib and peered down at the little thing, wondering what it possibly wanted from her. It's little face was red, her toothless mouth wide open and amplifying an irritating scream. Ana screamed back at her. The little thing was kicking her legs and screwing up her tiny fists, looking at her through Charlie's big blue eyes. It irritated Ana how much she looked like him. When she watched Charlie talking to her, she also wondered if Paige would take his accent too. Sometimes he would talk in a ridiculous manner, pronouncing "you" as "yuh" or "are" as "ahhr" or "have" as "aav" , explaining that that was how his father talked. Ana wasn't sure she would be able to stand that.

The infant moved her head from side to side, her chubby arms raised high and her hands grabbing at the air. Sighing, Ana picked her up and sat with her in the armchair. She made a feeble attempt at rocking her, an even worse attempt at cuddling her, and then a more familiar attempt at yelling back uselessly. The child's chest rose and fell quickly with her crying, and Ana could feel her heart beating and her head spinning. It felt like hours had passed when she noticed she could breathe again. She inhaled deeply as if it were her first breath of fresh air in weeks. She noticed her breathing pace increase and a lump form in her throat. No. Not now. She held the baby weakly in her arms and felt hot tears prick her couldn't catch her breath and she buried her face in the child's blankets, tears fighting their way through and streaming down her cheeks. _I can't do this anymore._

* * *

Upon hearing the doorbell ring, Claire left Aaron playing with his toys and answered it with curiosity. Her expression formed in to a surprised smile as she saw who stood in front of her.

"Well, this is unexpected."

Charlie looked flustered as he forced a brief smile and asked if he could come in, "Is Desmond here?" he asked as she allowed him to step in to the house.

She shook her head, "He's at work."

At this revelation, he turned to her and kissed her freely on the lips. "I need to talk to you."

Caught off guard, she pulled a confused face and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "Is everything alright? What are you doing here, Charlie? Did the session go okay?"

Charlie ran a hand through his hair, "It was awful," he sighed. "Ana just ran off. I should be having a word with her right now about all this but," he paused and his gaze drifted over to the chubby one-year-old sitting quietly on the rug by the sofa. He seemed almost stunned. Then a smile emerged. "Aaron?"

Claire followed him as he hurried over to the infant and bent down to greet him.

"Hey, Aaron. It's me. Remember me? Charlie?" he grinned, kneeling beside him. Aaron just stared up at him silently, dumbfounded. Charlie felt his heart sink. "He doesn't remember me."

"Of course he remembers you. You saw him last month just before his birthday," Claire assured him as she leant on the arm of the sofa.

"Yeah. For, like, two seconds!" he argued. He noticed the polar bear doll in front of him and raised it to the child's view, "Remember this, Aaron? I gave you this for your first birthday. You're one year old! That's little!"

The child's big blue eyes hardly blinked, his little mouth half-open. He snatched the toy and threw it across the room before giggling to himself.

Charlie's face fell and Claire stood up. "He loves that thing normally. He's always playing with it. He must be in a silly mood."

"Or he doesn't like polar bears," Charlie shrugged it off, ignoring his sadness. "Can't say I care for them either." He ruffled the boy's hair and got to his feet. Claire cocked her head and frowned.

"What happened at the session, Charlie?"

"Get me a cuppa and I'll tell you."

"There's no time for that. Des will be home soon."

Charlie frowned at the mention of him, and frowned even more at the nickname. "Alright. I better be off soon anyway." He inhaled a deep breath before proceeding to describe the whole story to her. Every last detail, as far as he knew.

Claire's mouth hung open. She had never liked Ana, despised her at times. After all, she was the reason why she and Charlie couldn't be together. She, along with Charlie, had broken her heart when it was most fragile. She had used him and taken pleasure in the man Claire loved just to fulfil her own selfish needs. Still, nobody should have to suffer what she had. Suddenly the idea of not having Aaron in her life was enough to make her burst in to tears. It was unimaginable. To lose a child; it must be one of the most painful experiences ever. Her hand covered her mouth, "How awful!"

"Her therapist said she hasn't told many people. I don't know what to make of it."

"It sounds like she's still in pain over it."

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "I don't know what to say to her. Usually she's such a private person. I hardly ever see her open up like that. Doctor said it was to build….trust between us. I bet she'll be in a rotten mood now. Maybe I shouldn't bring it up, it'll only spark another argument."

"Imagine what she must have gone through!"

"I can't."

"I suppose." She rested her fingers on her lips as she thought to herself. After a few moments of futile thinking, she dropped her hand and gave up. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I wish I could give you some advice but the truth is you're just going to have to work this out between you both. You know how I feel about her anyway. You know I don't like to get mixed up in your business."

"I like talking to you," he frowned, sitting on the arm of the sofa. Claire drifted over to him and took his hand, clasping it in her own, her touch providing a comforting sensation.

"I like talking to you too. But this is something you both have to deal with it. I think the doctor's right - maybe this will provide a more stable relationship between you. You're always complaining about her."

Charlie scorned. "Stable? There's a better chance of hell freezing over."

She rolled her eyes playfully and brushed his hand with her thumb. "You're going to have to talk to her whether you like it or not. You know it's the right thing to do, you can't just ignore it now. "

He sighed and dropped his gaze to the carpet, "You're right.." He cleared his throat and got to his feet. "I'll talk to her. It'll be fine."

She forced a smile as she looked up at him. "Okay, then."

He stood close to her and smiled, "Why must you always be right, Claire Littleton?"

"To guide helpless idiots like you," she teased, poking him in the chest. "Just kidding." And she kissed him softly on the lips again.

He smiled against her mouth. "See you tonight, then. If we're still on?"

"8 pm. At the club?"

"Absolutely." With one last quick kiss, Charlie pulled away and waved a goodbye to little Aaron. "See ya, mate. Look after your mum, alright?"

Aaron gurgled and smiled. "No!" He put his thumb in his mouth and turned back to his toys.

"Alright, then," Charlie shook his head and laughed. Claire giggled. "I'll be off then." They both walked towards the door. "Bye, Claire."

Claire waved as he took a step outside. At first she didn't notice Desmond pull up in his car to see them both together. But as soon as she did, she held her breath and shared a nervous glance with Charlie. It seemed their secret meeting had been exposed.

Charlie didn't make any effort to run off, even though it crossed his mind. That would have been far more suspicious. And anyway, he wasn't bothered whether Desmond knew of their meetings or not. It was Claire who was anxious about keeping it a secret. Charlie didn't want Ana to know for various other reasons, but he often got the feeling Des thought he had a chance with the Australian woman.

"Good afternoon, Brutha." Des forced a confused smile as he climbed out the car and slammed the door shut. He glanced at Claire quickly before returning his gaze to the Englishman in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure Claire's alright," Charlie replied coldly. Claire bit her lip. "You know, after the accident. Is that a crime?"

Des pushed out his lower lip, shaking his head. "Course not. It's just strange to see you again, you know? After all this time. How's Ana and the baby?"

_As if you care_, Charlie muttered inwardly. But he smiled on the outside, "They're fine. Thanks." A beat of silence and Claire was wondering when the torment would end. After what seemed like hours of awkwardness, Charlie sucked in a breath and declared that he ought to be getting back. He said his goodbyes and disappeared down the street.

"So that was a rather unexpected visit," Desmond began with suspicion as he and Claire set the table for tea shortly afterwards.

"Yeah, it was," she replied without so much as a glance in his direction. She laid out the knives and forks, finding them more important than the conversation.

"Was that really all he wanted? To check up on you?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she repeated. "It was."

"Doesn't he have a phone?"

"Yes of course he does."

"Couldn't he have just called?"

"Yes. I don't know!" she cried, "What's with all the questions anyway?" she argued, hurrying off in to the kitchen. Her eyes avoided the corner where they had shared their passionate kiss. The kiss that had apparently meant nothing. But Desmond forced her attention there by standing in the exact spot, almost as if to tempt her again.

"I'm sorry. It just seemed a little out of the blue."

"Well you know how unpredictable Charlie can be."

"I suppose," he agreed. "Are you sure he wasn't here for anything else?"

Claire held her breath. She guessed there was nothing wrong in admitting that Charlie only wanted to talk about his problems with Ana-Lucia. But she got the idea that Desmond wouldn't appreciate Charlie using her as a personal agony aunt. Besides, Charlie probably wouldn't want Des knowing about his private business. She decided to lie again and assure him there was nothing else. She sighed. Lying was all she seemed to do these days.

* * *

He felt his heart beat in his ears right down to the pit of his stomach as he turned the key and opened the door to the apartment. He had to push all thoughts of Claire and Desmond out of his mind for now. He wasn't sure what state Ana-Lucia would be in, but he knew she wouldn't be happy to see him after that fiasco. Charlie held his breath nervously. All he could hear was Paige crying from her room. There was no sign of Ana, or Theresa for that matter. So, with a sigh, he threw his coat to one side and headed for the room to comfort her.

He was startled to see a damp-eyed Ana-Lucia with the red-faced child. She had the baby loosely in her arms, so that her legs were dangling in the air and her head drooped backwards. The child screeched at an impossible pitch and Charlie had to question how Ana could just be sitting there like a zombie without making any attempt to hush the crying infant. Ana hardly even registered his presence; she glanced up with a frown and it seemed obvious to Charlie that she had been crying. That was enough to suggest that something was wrong. He exhaled shakily and looked at her with a mix of sympathy and pity. Gently, he took the baby from her grasp and began to cradle her himself.

"Shh shhh. It's okay. Daddy's back now. Please be quiet now for mummy, eh?" he whispered in her tiny ear. When that failed, he fetched her a bottle and fed her carefully. During this time, Ana had remained in the armchair, embarrassed and wiping the moisture from her face. Paige had stopped wriggling around and eventually her crying ceased, much to the relief of both parents. Her father placed her slowly back in to her crib whilst the mother stared absently in to space.

Charlie glanced at her seriously and beckoned her outside. She glared at him. Her eyes were so pink and watery she hardly looked threatening enough to intimidate him now. He grabbed her arm without hesitance,

"Come on. I need to talk to you."

Once outside, Ana pulled away from him whilst he closed Paige's door. "There's nothing to talk about."

He turned to face her, his brows furrowed. "There's plenty to talk about. What happened earlier…I had no idea…"

"What did I say to you before we left this morning, Charlie?" she spat. Again, she was such a sniffing, snivelling mess, her tone wasn't enough to bully him this time. "I don't want to talk about it with you here. I said not to treat me differently."

"That was before I knew," he argued, "Of course we need to talk about it. And is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Like what?"

"Like what I just witnessed in there!"

She went extremely quiet then, her arms crossed and her lips pursed together.

"It's alright to admit it. I understand." Still, no response. So Charlie answered for her. "You're depressed. A lot of woman get depressed after giving birth."

Ana rolled her eyes, "Don't try to analyse me, Charlie."

"Just talk to me. Otherwise we'll never get passed this," he insisted with urgency in his voice.

"I told you I don't want to talk."

"Look at you. You're shaking. You look a mess. I've never seen you like this. We need to work something out, get help."

"I'm seeing a therapist!" she responded. Her legs felt weak so she collapsed on to the sofa to take the weight off.

"I _mean_ perhaps you need to talk to a someone with experience. Someone who's had a baby and knows this stuff."

"What, like your precious Claire?" she snapped hatefully, her hand reaching up for her aching head.

He sat down beside her and shrugged desperately, "I'm just trying to help!"

"Well, thanks. But I don't need your help."

"That's your problem."

"What's my problem?"

"You won't let anyone help you. You won't let your mum help, you won't let me help," he barked. "Did you even let that Danny bloke help you after you were shot? Perhaps that's why he couldn't stick around, huh?"

He didn't even have time to take back his harsh words before he felt a shocking pain overcome him, and realised Ana-Lucia had struck him hard on the side of the head. His body had shifted in to the back of the sofa from the force and his hands instinctively rose to his burning flesh, his head still spinning from the shock. He thought he may have even felt blood emerging from the injured area, but at the worst it was most likely going to bruise. When he glanced up again, his hand over part of his eye, he saw Ana scowling back at him.

"Are you trying to send me back to hospital?" he demanded, nursing his invisible wound.

"You bastard," she muttered spitefully, "You absolute son-of-a-bitch!"

He looked away from her. "Look, I know what I said was spiteful," he admitted, bitter about her actions even though it had been his intention to hurt her first. "But there's no need for that." He kept his wrist on the hot flesh, hoping the cooler temperature of his arm would ease the pain.

She stood up quickly, "I knew today was a mistake! I wish I never told you! Of course you'd use it against me - it's another way to get at me, right? I should have learnt by now, the only person I can trust is myself!"

"Of course not!" Charlie got to his feet, his cheek sore. "Today was about building trust between us, and I would never use what you went through as a way to '_get at you_'. Just calm down, alright?"

"'_Calm down_'? I can't '_calm down'_!" She was hysterical now. "My whole life, I've…had this wall around me. It made me feel safe! I was fine with that! Maybe people didn't like me because of it, but I did just fine without them," she cried bitterly, her voice shaky. "Now…I feel exposed. I feel sick with myself. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

Charlie breathed a sigh and dropped his head, shrugging. "I have an idea."

She scorned. "Look at me. I'm a pathetic mess! This never happened before you. Before us!"

"I don't think this is just about us," he argued. "I think you're still dealing with the death of your baby."

She pursed her lips angrily and shook her head vigorously. To her horror, she felt the tears stream down her face. "You're wrong!" she said loudly, "That was a long time ago. And I'll tell you how I dealt with it!" She didn't realise how much she would regret it at the time, but she told him the truth. "I killed the son-of-a-bitch!" she snapped, feeling little remorse. "Bastard got what he deserved."

Charlie felt his expression fall. He shook his head almost in disbelief, "Oh, Ana."

She swiped at her eyes furiously, the moisture burning her skin. She frowned weakly and turned away from him. And for once in her life, she hoped that damn baby would start crying again.

Claire observed Desmond as he helped her dry the dishes; the muscles of his arm seemed to tighten whenever he bent it, and Claire's eyes kept getting drawn to the hair underneath his belly button when he reached upwards to put something away in the top cupboards and his shirt uplifted. Her thoughts drifted back to the blue shirt he always used to wear on the island. Half unbuttoned. Loose but tight around the shoulders.

"Claire?"

Embarrassed, she shook away her thoughts and turned to Desmond who was staring at her, brows furrowed.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she closed her eyes and smiled at him, pretending to recall something. "I just remembered, Hurley and Libby asked me to go round theirs tonight."

"Oh." At first Claire thought Des seemed surprised at the sudden invitation. But then she saw that he was genuinely disappointed that he hadn't been asked to come. "Not for dinner, I hope," he grinned weakly, grabbing another plate.

She smiled politely, "No, it's just for a chat. And to catch up. I know it's a bit late but they have a lot to do in the daytime." She said this through grit teeth, the lying torturing her. She wondered if he would actually believe such a pathetic excuse.

"Yeah. It is a bit strange," he agreed, "But I understand. I hope you have a nice evening."

She breathed a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Des. I appreciate it. I'll leave in a bit, you'll be alright with Aaron, won't you?"

"Of Course," he told her, a saddened smile playing on his lips. She nodded gratefully and left to see to Aaron.

Desmond stared down at the ground and pressed his lips together. Seeing Charlie today had only confirmed his suspicions. He doubted Hurley and Libby would call Claire out of the blue and ask her over for a nice chat at this time in the evening. He couldn't help thinking she was planning to see Charlie tonight. The thought of them together made him feel a mixture of sadness and anger. Charlie had had his chance and he blew it. He'd been an idiot. And he had Claire wrapped around his finger. Why couldn't she see, the best man for her was right under her nose? Why couldn't she feel the same? Why did she keep lying to him like this?

Then again, he told himself, shouldn't he give her the benefit of the doubt?

"How's your head?" Ana sniffed from the counter in the kitchen. Charlie was back on the sofa now, with some ice to his head, staring at the table in front of him. He didn't answer. "So you gonna turn me in?"

"Course not," he answered bluntly.

"Why not? I broke your moral code, didn't I?"

"We've all killed at some point," he admitted hatefully, shuddering at the memory. "On that island…we had to."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," she shrugged.

A beat of silence. Charlie moved slightly on the sofa, "This is why you were crying, wasn't it? The night we…"

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head, "Don't."

"It's true though, isn't it?"

"I'm not as remorseful as you may think. It was for a lot of things," she told him sternly.

"Like the loss of your baby."

"Shut up."

He jumped up and walked over to her, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business."

"You kinda made it my business."

"You think you're so special, don't you?" she smiled mockingly, "You know, that night I could have been with any Tom, Dick or Harry that came round that corner."

"Well you didn't get any of them," he informed her, "You got me."

"Lucky me," she said sarcastically.

"Look, I understand what happened to you. But I don't understand why you've got to be like this!"

"Well sorry to bring you the bad news, but it's who I am!" she shouted, storming away from the kitchen area. "And I'm not changing for anyone! Not for them, not for you! Not for that baby in there!"

"If you just got off your high horse and stopped being such a bitch, you would realise how important that baby is to you! You could be a brilliant mum!"

She scorned at that, more than she had ever scorned at anything before. She could feel her sore eyes water again, but to her relief, no tears escaped this time. He had no idea what he was talking about. He didn't know how painful Ana thought it was to look at her, to wonder if she would call her "mum" or "mom", or think what an awful person she must be not to love her own daughter. It came natural to him. Ana had to try hard not to throw her out of the window. She had had enough. She gave him the cruellest glare possible and then headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

"I'm leaving. I don't have to listen to this."

"Yes you do!" he chased after her and blocked the way to the door.

"Get out of my way, Charlie. Or I'll kick you out of the way."

"Kick all you want," he told her, unthreatened.

She sucked in her cheeks angrily, her tongue sliding across her teeth. "Move."

He locked the door quickly before facing her again, looking quite pleased with himself. "You're gonna have to make me." He gripped the key in his palm tightly.

She inhaled deeply, "Give me the key."

He shook his head, "Not until we finish discussing this."

"Oh, we're finished!" she snapped, shoving him.

He toppled slightly before catching his balance, "You can push and hit me 'til your fists bleed. You're not leaving this flat."

She pushed him again, viciously, visibly frustrated. "Give it to me!"

He didn't retaliate. Made no effort to fight her off. He felt his chest ache from the way she was bashing against it, but he had no intention of giving her the key. She couldn't keep running away from her problems. They had both made that mistake before. She pushed him again with such a force that he fell over backwards. With the shock, he hadn't realised he had grabbed on to Ana's arm and pulled her down with him. They hit the floor with a painful thud and an agitated grunt.

"Idiot!" Ana muttered from above him, her brunette curls tickling his face, the force of her weight pressing against him. The smell of his cologne was so thick from this distance and it gave her a headache. Charlie didn't move below her, but he looked tense judging by his expression. And then she knew why. She glanced down. Even he couldn't stop the forces of nature; the instinctive impulse that brought them together in the first place. And he felt his heart beat so wildly he thought it may burst out of his chest. He lay his head down against the floor in defeat. Ana suddenly found herself breathless, her instincts overwhelming her and she knew Charlie felt the same. She didn't have the energy to feel disgusted, and he didn't feel inhibited enough to feel embarrassed. And all this was far too familiar anyway. He thought whether he should push her away or whether he should satisfy his libido. But in the end, he didn't think.

He rolled her over on to the wooden floor and watched her breathing pace increase, her chest rising and falling against his. He could hardly hear anything over his heartbeat as it pounded inside him, obscuring his thoughts. No matter what his conscience was telling him, it wasn't saying it loud enough. His head lowered towards hers, his lips brushing against her open mouth. She could feel her chest tightening, her heart going in to overdrive as she lay beneath him, her body temperature rising with each passing moment.

He instinctively pursued those familiar thick lips of hers. She noticed his eyes were open at first, as if seeing her so close would make him change his mind, perhaps. He hadn't, and their pace naturally increased, her hands grabbing at the buttons of his jeans whilst he reached for the belt of hers, as if indulging in this activity would solve everything.

* * *

"What do you mean he hasn't come in yet?" Claire questioned one of the bouncers with distress, "He plays here every night!"

The tall, threatening-looking fellow stared down at her through his dark sunglasses. "Like I said, lady, he ain't come in. He'll be lucky if he still has a job tomorrow."

Claire frowned, but thanked him for his help. She leant against the brick wall and sighed. She had gone online earlier and Charlie wasn't around. She thought his confrontation with Ana-Lucia must have gone on a little longer than intended. Now she was getting concerned. Had they been talking for this long? She didn't think Ana would be so content about revealing her feelings to a man she so obviously despised. Perhaps they were fighting again. Her frown deepened. She had been looking forward to tonight. She had missed Charlie's scent, and the feeling of his skin against hers. His kiss. His touch, that always seemed to make her shiver. He always knew how to make her feel amazing. And then, shortly afterwards, the most guilty she had ever been. He was worth the guilt, though. He was worth the pain and the lies…wasn't he?

Her gaze settled upon the night sky, the stars twinkling with their pretty light. The sky had looked like this when she met Charlie; alive with a sea of shimmering stars. A beautiful sight compared to the horrors they had lived through shortly before. And would live through shortly afterwards. She still remembered those days vividly. The days before they knew about another group of survivors. The days before Ana-Lucia and the rain cloud that hung over her, soaking everyone that came in to contact with her. A sickening thought overwhelmed her, and she suddenly dreaded what Charlie and Ana were doing at that present moment in time. It wouldn't be the first time, and she knew perfectly well what they could be like. She swallowed and bit her lip, trying not to think about it. She could be wrong, after all. But what if she wasn't? Sometimes it was hard for her to stay angry at him whenever something like this happened, for various reasons. But mainly because she often felt sick with herself for committing much the same act. She was the mistress, wasn't she? She was the one having the affair and lying about it to everyone. Her eyes dropped to the floor. And then she decided not to wait anymore.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

The woman felt nauseous as she lay in bed, staring in to an abyss of misery and falsehood above her. Charlie was asleep beside her, his breathing slow and gentle. He seemed so peaceful and Ana hated him for it. She glanced at the clock on the other side of her. 5am. She had hardly slept all night, her body aching and her mind alive with thoughts of her complicated situation. Her finger ran idly across the scar just below her belly. The way Charlie looked at her when he found it last night seemed to imply he hadn't noticed the dreaded thing before. After that he seemed to avoid the area, but that proved difficult in the end. She didn't care. Most of the time she ignored it was there anyway. At least he hadn't questioned her even more about it, his mind preoccupied with other things. That was something at least.

She thought she heard the baby a couple of times in the night but ignored its cries. She hadn't the energy to drag herself out of bed to deal with it. Besides, she wanted to preserve all her remaining energy for her run this morning. She glanced over as the man beside her rolled over. That reminded her, she didn't want to be anywhere near him when he woke up. She sighed and grabbed her clothes. It couldn't hurt to go running a little earlier than usual. Anyway, she thought it might do her some good. Anything's better than staying here with him.

* * *

The crying could wake the dead at the rate this little boy was going. Claire held him in her arms, spoke softly in to his ear. When he persisted she felt tears prick her own eyes. She loved Aaron, but she wasn't in the mood to console anyone else. Not when she was upset herself. It had taken her a long time to drop off to sleep last night - the image of Charlie and Ana together kept playing in her mind. She almost ground her teeth to the gums. She told herself that there was no use getting angry. It wasn't like she and Charlie were an official couple, even though they loved each other. It made her ill to think that she was the one acting as "the other woman". Perhaps she shouldn't blame him. Charlie could be very weak at the worst of times - he had proved that already. It didn't make her any less angry though.

But there was also the thought in the back of her mind that she could be terribly wrong about the whole thing. Perhaps they _were_ building a more healthy relationship, in a more platonic way then Claire had been thinking. It troubled her how her mind instantly came up with the worst thing possible.

Perhaps that's what made her break down in to sobs with the baby as he bawled his eyes out, the tears flooding down his face. She rocked him from side to side, spluttering the words to "Catch A Falling Star". But sadly, that made him cry harder. She placed the child over one shoulder and tapped his back gently, still rocking him. That seemed to cease the crying, but it was only when she turned around to see Desmond holding the cuddly toy polar bear that she realised why. He walked over and gave Aaron the toy, the boy's chubby features reanimating in to a smile as he put the poor bear's ear in his mouth and sucked on it. Claire sniffed and forced a relieved smile before placing Aaron back in to his crib.

"Thanks." She wiped her eyes, wetting her sleeve in the process.

"Claire?" Desmond held her shoulders and examined her damp features, "Oh, come on. It's alright. He's stopped now, hasn't he?"

She pouted and glanced down, nodding. "Yeah. I'm just being silly."

"Come here." He took her in a hug and held her close to him. She felt so small in his arms and he felt glad to comfort her. He hadn't realised that he had begun to breathe in the scent of her blonde hair, the gorgeous aroma of her coconut conditioner enticing him further.

Claire had noticed, but she kept quiet, because she was quite enjoying being in Desmond Hume's embrace.

* * *

It was interesting, thought Charlie sleepily as he dug his face in to the pillow, that at a time when he assumed they were being more animal, Ana-Lucia seemed to become most human. Perhaps she was angry, pushy and hateful in an act that was ironically called "making love", but it was interesting…how she let another human being so close to her, close enough to touch her and comfort her. Close enough to share something with her, even just "be" with her. That wasn't a normal occurrence for her…and it was interesting.

It was also interesting how he seemed so intent on making the same mistake time and time again. How he was apparently content to disregard someone he loved just to get laid by someone who hated him, and who he himself could hardly stand to be around.

It was absolutely fascinating, he continued to himself bitterly, how much he must love to hate himself and his life to exacerbate an already complicated and undesired lifestyle.

The most interesting part of it, however, was that only half of him seemed to regret it. The other half patting him on the back with no regrets at all. He tried to ignore that half, the familiar side of him that beckoned him back in to an unhealthy world of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. That was all behind him now.

He moaned at the thought of getting up and facing the reality of what he had done. The only thing that made him roll out of bed was the perpetual wailing of the baby. Well, that and the fact he could still smell Ana-Lucia's scent as he tried to bury his head further in to the pillow.

Before he could get to Paige's room, the screaming becoming unbearable, he heard a knock at the door. Thinking it must be Ana-Lucia back from her morning run, he answered it clothed only in his vest and stripy boxes. He had to hide his embarrassment when he saw, rather than Ana-Lucia, a tall grey-haired man with a deep frown playing amongst his stubble.

"Come on, man. It's 7:30 in the morning. Can we get some peace and quiet?"

Charlie realised he must be talking about Paige. "Oh, right. Sorry. I was just about to see to her."

"Well make it snappy, will ya? Kid's got a pair of lungs on her."

"You're telling me."

Usually when Paige got what she wanted she was an angel - a perfectly behaved little baby. But this morning she did everything in her power to upset, annoy, and anger everyone in the building, including her father. He fed her, changed her nappy, read to her, even sang to her. But she wouldn't cease. It was as if she were possessed by a demon, her eyes shut tightly and her face pink and wrinkled. She hardly looked cute at all, barely recognisable. In fact, she seemed just like her mother's daughter…for a change.

The grey-haired frowning man returned with an even deeper frown then before. It had been a couple of hours since his last visit and he was beginning to get very agitated. He wasn't the only one. Ana seemed to be missing, Charlie was losing his hearing and his will to live, and Paige looked like she was about to explode. He simply couldn't take much more. He was a mess when he opened the door, the sobbing infant in one arm and a cuddly toy in the other. He shook his head apologetically at his neighbour.

"I'm so sorry, mate. I don't know what's wrong with her!" he exclaimed hopelessly.

The man sighed. "Look, it would be really nice if I could hear my self think again. Alright?"

"Alright." He nodded vigorously, "Sorry."

"Haven't you got a pacifier or something?"

"Right! I hadn't thought of that."

He pushed the door closed (already beginning his pursuit of the miracle pacifier) just as Ana-Lucia appeared, and she slipped through just before it shut on her. Charlie turned around, clutching Paige and looked at her with wide eyes. Ana noticed they looked more brown than the usual blue today. Last night they seemed emerald green. She swore they changed colour, a bit like a mood ring does when the wearer experiences different emotions.

"Where the hell have you been? Can you see what I've been dealing with!"

"I can hear it half way down the street," she complained, as if the noise wasn't her responsibility at all. He continued to look at her, unimpressed, and she rolled her eyes back. "I've just been out that's all. Isn't that the excuse you use?"

Charlie frowned and ignored her. "Come on, trouble-maker," he spoke to Paige as he rested her on the pillows of the sofa. He began to rummage through her travel bag of things; spare nappies, baby food, toys, bottles. He sighed and looked up at Ana-Lucia who simply stood there watching the child cry. "Do you know where Paige's dummy is?"

"Her what?"

"Her dummy…you guys call it a pacifier."

"British words are weird," she commented as she wandered over to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.

"I hadn't noticed," Charlie replied bluntly, unamused. "And do you know or not?"

She gulped down half the glass of cool water before shaking her head, using her arm to wipe her mouth dry. Charlie broke his annoyed gaze and continued to search.

"Aha!" he celebrated, "Found the wretched thing. Here." He stooped down and placed the dummy in her little mouth. She immediately stopped crying and became more captivated by the familiar device, rolling on to her bare little tummy and making short sucking noises. Whatever evil was present seemed to have been vanquished. Charlie slumped on the sofa beside her and observed her with a smile. "Problem solved!"

_If only it had been_, thought Ana. She feared that Charlie would bring up her depression again, and the reason for it, but thankfully he seemed to have learnt his lesson the previous night. Like she had told him, it was her problem, her past, and she didn't want to discuss it anymore. She just had to deal with it. No matter how hard it was.

* * *

Why did he have to be so good-looking? So sweet and kind? So mature and responsible? So….available? He was like a magnet sucking her in and it was taking all her might not to succumb to his attractive qualities. Even now, as she fed breakfast to Aaron, she couldn't tear away her eyes from the shirtless man as he worked up a sweat in the hallway whilst doing some morning sit-ups.

Was he doing it on purpose? Was he really this cruel? Or was she over-thinking the whole thing? He must know by now that she found him attractive. Hadn't she made it obvious? She thought about that kiss more often than was probably healthy. It had been a relief to finally unleash her feelings in to physical interaction. Like an itch she could finally scratch. But her conscience bullied her in to realising that it wasn't right.

It still made her furious to think that Charlie didn't have that same moral consciousness in the back of that impulsive brain of his. Some day she'll stop thinking about it, she'll stop getting angry or guilty about it, and she'll have the guts to take revenge in to her own hands. She quite liked the thought of that as she spied on Desmond working out, his chest glistening with sweat, his broad shoulders rising up and down repeatedly as he continued with his sit-ups.

She was strangely disappointed when he stopped and got to his feet, grabbing a towel and wiping his face and back with it. She snapped her eyes away quickly when she saw he was approaching the kitchen.

"Claire, are you alright?" he asked her, concern in his voice.

She looked up at him, nodding, "Course I am."

"Something's bothering you. Is it something to do with Charlie coming round yesterday?"

Claire sprang to her feet a little too quickly and scorned at the suggestion, "Charlie? No. Why would you think that?"

He frowned and hesitated a beat. "That wasn't the first time he's been here, is it? Is there something you're not telling me, Claire?"

She was startled by the sudden questioning. How long had he had these suspicions? The idea of him finding out about her affair with Charlie made her heart beat a sickening pace. Maybe it was out of selfishness, but she couldn't handle Des knowing. She and Charlie had agreed not to tell him, not to tell _anyone_, and now hiding it from him was part of the norm. She detested lying to him but it was the only way. She didn't look at him at first, leaning over the kitchen counter and pretending to search for something in the overhead cupboard. But eventually, she had to give him a serious answer. She had to look him in the eye. She had to feed him the lie as sincerely as she could.

"There is nothing going on between me and Charlie if that's what you're suggesting," she told him with a frown. "We're over. I told you."

Desmond sighed inwardly at that. He was relieved to hear it, yet his mind still held some suspicions. He trusted Claire. But Charlie? Who could trust him after everything that had happened?

"You would tell me if he ever upset you, wouldn't you? If anything at all ever upset you?"

Her expression warmed and she smiled softly at him, "Yeah. Thanks."

He smiled back at her, "Good." He stepped back, "I'll just go and get a shower then…just warning you."

Trying to hold back embarrassed laughter, she stuck out her bottom lip and pouted humorously, "I'll try not to walk in on you this time."

He chuckled and vanished in to the bathroom, Claire's eyes following until the door closed shut. He was just teasing her now. She felt a little like an obsessed stalker. The humour soon passed when she realised she didn't like the thought of being that _or_ the mistress to a man who had a family of his own. Speaking of which, she ought to confront him soon. He would be expecting to see her online. As mad as she was about her own suspicions for his absence, she wanted to hear his own excuses. Then she would decide whether she wanted to see him tonight or not.

**Claire has just signed in.**

**Charlie: **Claire, I am so sorry.

**Claire: **What for, Charlie?

**Charlie: **For not being at the club yesterday. I'm sorry. Things kind of got messy over here with Ana.

**Claire: **Messy?

**Charlie: **I found her sitting with Paige in a pool of her own tears. It was insane!

**Claire: **That does sound pretty crazy. Is she alright?

**Charlie: **It was tremendously crazy. She's back to normal now. But last night she was sobbing and screaming at me. She even hit me.

**Claire: **I'm not sure what to say…

**Charlie: **I was speechless too. She calmed down eventually. Sort of.

**Claire: **How'd you manage that?

**Charlie: **I guess she just got tired of arguing.

**Charlie: **Claire?

**Charlie: **You still there?

**Claire: **Yep.

**Charlie: **Are we still on for tonight?

**Claire: **You know I'm running out of excuses to tell Desmond!

**Charlie: **Use the book club one again.

**Claire: **Already used it.

**Charlie: **He doesn't know how often you meet up! You could be reading five books a week for all he knows.

**Claire: **I don't know.

**Charlie: **You're not mad at me, are you?

**Claire: **Why would I be mad at you, Charlie?

**Charlie: **I don't know. You just seem off today or something.

**Claire: **Sorry.

**Charlie: **Are you sure you're alright?

**Claire: **I'm fine. It's nothing. Sorry.

**Charlie: **I know, I'm going to spoil you tonight.

**Claire: **What?

**Charlie: **I'll shower you with gifts, we can grab a bite to eat, whatever you want.

**Claire: **We never do that.

**Charlie: **Exactly.

**Claire: **It's what couples do.

**Charlie: **Generally, couples do soppy stuff like that, yes.

**Claire: **We can't do that.

**Charlie: **Why not?

**Claire: **Someone will see.

**Charlie: **Well I'll order room service and we can eat in our room. We can go to a nice hotel, my treat.

**Claire: **You can't afford that.

**Charlie: **Who says?

**Claire: **You say! Besides, when I went to the club last night I wasn't the only one annoyed that you didn't show up.

**Charlie: **Oh. Bollocks.

**Claire: **Indeed.

**Charlie: **It seems I have some grovelling to do.

**Claire: **It does seem that way.

**Claire: **Oh, God. I'm on wikipedia.

**Charlie: **Well, it's a very resourceful site.

**Claire: **No, I mean I'm ON it!

**Charlie: **Really?

**Claire: ********wikipedia/wiki/Claire_Littleton**

**Charlie: **Wow.

**Claire: **Don't tell me you've never looked yourself up on the internet!

**Charlie:** Of course I have! I was in a band, remember? I was so full of myself. Then came darker times…

**Claire: **Aw.

**Charlie: **Yes, pity me.

**Claire: **Sorry.

**Charlie:** Bloody Hell, Claire! The paparazzi caught us!

**Claire: **No! Where?

**Charlie: **Just before the accident when you and I were chatting.

**Claire: **Ana and Desmond already know about that.

**Charlie: **They don't know I tried to kiss you.

**Claire: **Oh, Charlie.

**Charlie: **You should see the captions.

**Claire: **Bloody brilliant. I thought when we were rescued we'd have normal lives again.

**Charlie: **Yep, instead we're just talentless celebrities. Like every other famous person.

**Claire: **This is serious.

**Charlie: **I know.

**Claire:** Keep Ana away from the internet.

**Charlie: **With me always on it? No problem!

**Claire:** She's going to find out.

**Charlie: **She was always going to find out.

**Claire: **What are we going to do?

**Charlie:** Let me call you.

**Claire:** She might hear.

**Charlie:** She won't.

"You know that if I could, I would leave her. No hesitation. You know that right?" he spoke quietly, the phone pressed close to his ear.

"Yeah," he heard Claire reply, her breath shaky against the receiver. "I know."

"But I can't. We have a baby now. It's not fair if I leave," he told her this as if reminding himself as well of the cold hard facts about the situation.

"I know," Claire sniffed, her lip trembling. "I just wish things were different. I wish I didn't have a heart attack every time someone mentions you, fearing that on some level they know. That they're going to find out. I wish it wasn't like this."

_I'm sorry, _Charlie thought. _I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. _"I know, love," he said aloud, his voice low and wavering. "We all do." He had wished more than anything he could take back the things he had done. "And I'm so sorry I put us all in this situation." He heard her crying softly, felt himself become overwhelmed. _You should hate me. _"I'm sorry." _What have I done?_

"Listen to us," Claire sniffed again, this time laughter sounding through her tears. "It's not like one of us is dying. We've been through this. This is all in the past."

"Right. In the past," he repeated unconvincingly.

"I need to see you."

"I'll see you at the club again tonight, that is if I still have a job."

She laughed nervously again and he thought he could hear her wipe away the last of her tears. "You'll be there this time?"

"I'll be there." He imagined her smiling, and he smiled too, until he heard Ana-Lucia cursing to herself in Spanish again. He hated when she did that.

She entered the room and Charlie held his breath. "_Hey, Oliver_," she mumbled, "You mind not building up a huge phone bill? They'll cut us off soon."

He rolled his eyes and pulled a face as she disappeared in to the bathroom. He turned his attention back to the woman on the other end of the phone. "That was close. Ana came in. She called me Oliver."

"Oliver?"

"It's a nickname because, well, it should be obvious."

He heard her trying to stifle her laughter. "_Please, Sir. Can I have some more_?"

"Yes, very good."

"I think it's cute. It's a nice name. If you guys ever have a son, name him Oliver."

She meant it as a joke, not to be considered in reality. But she didn't realise the effect her words would have, what she was suggesting.

"What?"

"Sorry," she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. "It was a joke, I…"

Nervous laughter. "Who says we're ever going to have a son?"

"I didn't mean…"

"You can't possibly think Ana's going to get pregnant again can you?"

He just couldn't leave it alone. Claire huffed and felt her fingers wrap tighter around the phone. "Well, who knows? I know perfectly well what you two are like."

He swallowed, almost dropped the receiver. He could feel his heart stop suddenly inside his chest, the blood refusing to pump around his body, his skin suddenly becoming very cold. So cold, almost dead-like. The ground below him seemed to open up and swallow him.

"Claire…."

All he heard was another huff of breath against the speaker, and he could only imagine the face she had. Her pretty little features screwed up with hurt, even contempt. Betrayal. _She knew what they were like? _He shuddered, felt sick with himself.

"I have to go," he said quickly, and hung up without another word.

Claire bit her lip as she heard the phone go dead, the dial tone making her heart beat faster. She closed her eyes, breathed a heavy sigh, and then threw the phone on to the floor. Why couldn't she just let herself live in her fantasy world? Where she had him; where he was hers and she could pretend, if only for a few hours, that there was no one else involved.

She pushed a strand of blonde hair from her sore eyes, shivering. She wasn't even sure if she should go and see Charlie at the club anymore, or if he would still be waiting for her if she did decide to go. Releasing another sigh, she left the privacy of the study and stormed in to the front room, her chest rising and falling quickly. She was tired of thinking about this. Tired of wishing, of pretending. It was probably a good thing Des was at work, or she might have grabbed him and kissed him right here - no thinking, no explanations.

Aaron giggled below her, watching an episode of the Teletubbies, the familiar colourful creatures waving and bouncing around the faux green hills. How she sometimes envied his innocence, his ignorance.

She wandered over to him and knelt down beside him. "Hey, sweetie." At least she could rely on Aaron to be here for her, to love her no matter what. To provide her some comfort in her otherwise dismal life. He glanced at her smile and his little lips formed in to one very similar. She laughed at that and picked him up, giving him a big cuddle before setting him on her knee to watch the rest of the episode with him. Sometimes she preferred being someone's mother a lot more to being someone's lover.

* * *

Charlie pressed the top of the phone to his lips, his eyes wide and his heart beating in his stomach. He should have known Claire would see right through his lies. Sometimes Charlie felt like Claire knew him more than he knew himself. He hardly had time to collect his thoughts when Ana pushed past him, mumbling something about getting the mail. He ignored her, dropping the phone on the cushion of the sofa before sitting on the arm and contemplated where to go from here.

Was this it, then? Was she never going to speak to him again? Was she going to end things between them and settle for the big hero back home? He felt his jaw stiffen almost automatically. _Over his dead body_. He had made a mistake, yes. He couldn't take it back now.

Charlie questioned how many more mistakes he had to make before Claire abandoned him completely. He had been ridiculously lucky the first time, when this all started. Miraculously, she still loved him. She had still agreed to see him behind dearest Desmond's back. She lied for him, met with him at some of the worst hotels…

Hotels he had paid for by credit card….

….._Where_ did Ana say she was going?

"What the hell is this?"

He jumped up and spun around quickly, suddenly feeling his legs weaken. There was Ana, a ripped envelope in her hand and a piece of paper held up in the other. Charlie looked at it and bit his lip upon realising he was reading the bill for his credit card.

"Have you got a credit card I don't know about?" she demanded, her lips curled in anger.

Charlie snatched the paper away from her. "It's my money."

"And haven't you been spending _your _money in some interesting places?" He resisted her angry gaze, biting his tongue as hard as possible without drawing blood. "All those nights I was here with the baby, you were with _her._ _Weren't you_?"

He swallowed back his guilt and threw a dark scowl in her direction. "And what if I was?"

"You lied to me," she replied angrily.

"Of course I lied," he mumbled. "I didn't want you to know. Didn't want to give you an excuse to start another argument."

"You are full of bullshit, you know that? What about the kid?" she shouted. "I thought SHE was what mattered!"

"She IS what matters!" he spat back. "I care about her more than anything! It just so happens I care about Claire, too."

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes, screwing up the envelope and throwing it at him with force. "You're pathetic, that's what you are."

"Do you realise how hard this has been for me? You're not exactly a joy to be around!"

She felt the anger bubble up, her body heat rising. "FINE! Then go be with her, if you're so desperate to be with her! I almost feel sorry for her; I don't think she knows how unbearably pitiful you are!"

His teeth ground together furiously. He tried to avoid looking in to her eyes, those eyes that made his muscles tighten and his heart race. But he could feel their presence on him, burning in to him, and when he did return her gaze, he could see they were alight with anger and disdain.

His silence only seemed to encourage her. "No? Right, I forget - She has Desmond there to fulfil whatever desires you fail to satisfy. I guess _that's_ why you stumble home drunk in the middle of the night expecting _me_ to comfort you because _she _won't."

Something snapped inside of him then. Like a bull seeing red, he charged her and sent her stepping back in to the wall behind her, his teeth showing and his chest rising up and down quickly. She also felt her own breathing pace increase, surprised at his actions as he cornered her like a serial killer traps his victims. They locked eyes in an almost painful glare. He merely stood over her, grimacing, and then felt an undeniable pang of what seemed like alarm for his actions. He couldn't take this anymore. She pushed him away and he stumbled back before reaching for his jacket. He tore away his gaze at last and stormed out the front door, suddenly feeling very thirsty.

Ana caught her breath and stared at the closed door. Somehow, she didn't expect him to return any time soon.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

The stench of chlorine was overpowering as Desmond sat in the lifeguard seat overlooking the swimming pool. He watched the blue water lap against the edges and he sighed, thinking back to his sailing days. The days he spent running away and proving himself a coward when he was trying to be the hero, letting the woman he loved slip through his fingers. He thought about his life now and how he didn't want to make the same mistakes again. _If only she knew how I felt, _he thought, _and if only I knew what was going on in that head of hers. _

He was distracted by a yelp and his eyes fell upon a body floating in the water below him. Alarmed, he slid down the small ladder of the chair. "Get out the way!" He yelled before diving in and swimming rapidly towards a woman who was face down in the water, her brunette hair dancing in the waves. He grabbed her and turned her over, making sure her head was above the water.

By the time he had got her safely out of the pool and lying flat on the side, it was clear to see she had stopped breathing. Instinctively, Desmond began CPR while everybody else looked on nervously. His mind concentrated on the chest compressions, pushing all other distracting thoughts and fears out. He willed her to breathe, to open her eyes. She was already so pale, so lifeless. He refused to give up; he tried harder.

Relief swept over him when she opened her eyes and coughed out water. He found that his hand was placed on her shoulder as a comfort while she spluttered, his breathing just as desperate and sudden as hers. "It's okay," he reassured her. "You're fine now." She glanced up at him with pink-circled eyes, shivering uncontrollably. He forced a smile to comfort her, and she smiled back.

A short while later as Desmond was collecting his things from his locker, he was told that someone wanted to see him at the main entrance. For a brief moment, he visualised Claire and Aaron waiting for him with big smiles on their faces. He had to cover up his disappointment upon seeing that it wasn't them. It was a girl. She was smiling somewhat awkwardly and her wet hair was tied back in a short pony tail. It took Des a moment but he identified the girl as the same one he had saved from drowning not long before.

"Hi," she said, extending a hand to shake his. Des smiled and took her hand.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Tracy." She let go of his hand and smiled a sweet smile.

"How're you feeling, Tracy?"

"A lot better. I just wanted to thank you. Thank you so much for what you did. It's not very often I'm saved by a handsome stranger."

He chuckled and gave a small shrug. "No problem. All in a day's work. I'm glad you're doing better."

"I don't know what happened," she admitted, her smile loosening. "I guess I hit my head while I was swimming. Stupid, huh?"

"These things happen," he told her with that charming smile of his. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" he squeezed her shoulder gently.

She glanced down and blushed. "Am I jealous of the girl who ends up with you!" she laughed and thanked him once again before heading for the automatic doors.

His polite smile vanished and he sighed to himself miserably. _The girl who ends up with me, whoever that'll be._ His gaze fell upon the magazine rack by the desk and his eye caught a familiar face. _Claire?_ Walking over to investigate, he could see clearly now Claire's image on the cover of a magazine, her blonde hair flowing in the cool breeze from underneath her hat. And she wasn't alone.

The photo looked as if it were taken from some distance, perhaps across the busy road and zoomed in to capture Charlie leaning in to kiss Claire. His heart sank suddenly. _Charlie. _He recognised the clothes Claire was wearing and realised this must have been taken the day of the accident. He grabbed the magazine and flicked through the pages.

_Page 5. "Lost Lover's Reunion?"_

_Charlie Pace and Claire Littleton, survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 which crashed tragically on an uninhabited island last year, were pictured earlier this week in the middle of a somewhat steamy reunion. The couple were rescued in December last year and were rumoured to have been involved in a romantic relationship during their struggling survival on the island, despite Mr. Pace's current involvement with a fellow crash survivor, Ana-Lucia Cortez, who was later discovered to be around one month pregnant at the time of rescue. Miss Littleton herself gave birth to her son, Aaron, whilst on the island and is now rumoured to be in a romantic relationship of her own, though the identity of her mystery man remains just that: a mystery. It looked as though a lover's reunion was in the works for these two before an ironic twist of fate in the form of a minor car accident pulled them apart…_

Photographs of the car accident were at the bottom of the page. Desmond shoved the magazine back in the rack, and frowned. He knew it. He had refused to believe it at first, instead believing Claire when she insisted she was finished with Charlie. But deep down, he had known it.

He decided to take a detour on the way home.

* * *

"Ana, you know I can't prescribe you anything," Doctor Finley told his patient in a serious tone as she paced his office, her screaming baby in a pram by his desk.

She raised a hand to her head and sighed. "Can't you do something for me?" she asked over the baby's crying.

"I can talk to you."

She frowned. "So you haven't got a secret bottle of scotch or something hidden away in that desk of yours?"

The doctor cracked a smile and told her to sit down. Reluctantly she did as he asked. "Why are you really here, Ana? What's happened?"

She exhaled and stared at the baby beside her. A long, painful moment passed before she turned her gaze to the wooden desk and opened her mouth to respond. "Charlie and I had a fight. And it wasn't like the usual, either. It was…it was a big one." She paused and wet her lips before continuing. "I gotta tell you, doc…I don't think he's going to stick around for much longer."

Doctor Finley nodded, frowning. "And you still don't want him to go?"

She bit her tongue. "Yes and no. I guess for the sake of the baby, you know." She shook her head slowly as she watched Paige's face return to normal colour and her crying begin to cease. The doctor studied her for a moment.

"Did you two get a chance to talk after our last meeting?"

She sucked in a short breath. "Well, we argued some more."

"You didn't sort out any issues yet?"

She avoided his gaze. His frown deepened.

"What happened?"

She looked up to the ceiling. "Some things I think should just stay between me and him."

He breathed a sigh through his nose and scratched at his beard before nodding. "If you're sure."

She looked at him. He waited. She muttered a curse word under her breath. "Alright. We slept together."

Again, he nodded. "Is that what you wanted?"

She shrugged.

"Is this the kind of relationship you two want, is what I'm asking, Ana. You've told me a number of times how you both can't seem to get on - do you think going down this road again is going to fix things? Were you just trying to run away from your problems?"

She narrowed her eyes. Then she shook her head. "It was a mistake."

"Why was it a mistake?"

She ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, hating this. "Because I did it to avoid whatever other problems I had," she mumbled. "Every time - I was running away. Okay? I did it to feel….better about myself. In control."

He leant forwards slightly. "You know what might help? Getting to know one another. I bet you hardly know each other."

"I know him well enough," she scoffed and leant back in her seat.

"I think you should both just take a break from arguing, from parenting, and sit down to ask each other questions."

"Like _what_?"

"Ask him about his childhood."

"I'd rather not."

"Then tell him about _your _childhood."

"No way!"

"Just _talk _about something other than your daughter, or your living conditions, or whatever else you argue about, and for God's sake, keep it out of the bedroom! Alright?"

For a moment she looked somewhat horrified. Then, she shrugged and her mouth formed in to a twisted smile as if to mock his suggestion. The doctor just told her to think about it and she sighed and told him she would, even though she planned to forget about the whole thing as soon as she left.

"Just try it. You might find you have something in common!" he told her, smiling encouragingly.

She laughed inwardly. _Not in a million years. _

* * *

**Claire has just signed in.**

**Claire: **You're not offline!

**Claire:** You're ALWAYS online at this time.

**Claire: **Have you blocked me or something? We need to talk.

**Claire: **Fine. Be this way.

**Claire: **Charlie?

* * *

Desmond made his way in to the pub, craving a drink to erase his pain like he had so many times before. But upon entering he spotted an old rival slumped in the corner over the bar, his hand around a glass. For a moment he thought about just leaving, but the dim glimmer in the man's eyes made him curious. He stepped towards him and joined him at the bar.

"I'll have what he's having," he said to the waitress with a charming smile.

Charlie didn't look up from his glass and continued to run a finger around the rim. "You don't want what I'm having," he assured him, his voice low.

Des leant forward and indicated to the half-empty glass. "Something wrong? Everything okay with Ana and the baby?"

Charlie raised his head sleepily and glanced at him. "What do you care?" he said aggressively before raising his glass to his lips.

Des studied the man suspiciously. These symptoms were very familiar indeed. "Are you drunk, brutha?"

"I've told you before," Charlie started, pronouncing his words lazily, "I'm not your sodding brother." He clutched his head in mental agony and hid his face from the world, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat. Yes, this seemed very familiar.

"This isn't the first time is it, Charlie?" his companion asked seriously.

He continued covering his face with his hands, leaning on his elbows and slumping over the counter. "What do you want, Desmond?" he asked, finally looking him in the eye. "You already have everything: Claire, Aaron, even my sodding house! Why don't you leave me alone?"

Looking down guiltily, Desmond took in a deep breath. "I think you need some help."

Charlie stifled a bitter laugh. "Help? And who's gonna help me, huh? _You_? You'll look out for me, yeah? Like back on that bloody island when you told me I was going to die," he said fiercely. "Remember that, Des? When you told me I wouldn't see my own kid grow up and I probably wouldn't even make it to her birth!"

Desmond was biting his lip now and wishing he had never stepped foot inside this place. He shook his head apologetically, desperately. "I was wrong. I'm sorry. The visions - they were confusing. It's not your fate to die, Charlie. It's to raise Paige, have a family!"

Charlie scorned and looked away. "Yeah, well, that's the problem," he began, pausing to down the contents of his drink. "I've got the wrong family," he glared. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see if I still have a job."

With that last sentence, Charlie shoved past him and stumbled outside in to the cold. Desmond watched him leave and shook his head with frustration. It looked like nothing he said or did would make the man stop hating him. If he only knew his feelings for the woman he so obviously was still in love with, the secret kiss they had shared - Charlie would probably murder him.

_Still_, he thought as his drink finally arrived and he tasted the strength of what Charlie had been drinking, he seemed to be on a downward spiral that only one person could stop. He chewed on his lip and frowned. He knew what to do next.

* * *

Claire was napping next to Aaron by the television when he got home. Upon hearing the door shut, she sat up sleepily and wiped her eyes. "Desmond?"

Even staring in to those brilliant blue eyes wouldn't make him any happier. Looking at her only made him feel disappointment. "I need to talk to you. I think you should put Aaron in his room."

She seemed worried then, but did as he said and returned with an anxious frown. "What is it?"

He paused and bit his lip, tempted to forget about what he was going to say and just continue with their pretence. Sod Charlie and his feelings for her! But he couldn't. He knew Claire was in love with him, and Charlie loved her. And even through the hatred, Des knew he couldn't stand in the way of that.

"I, uh, saw Charlie at the bar earlier just before his shift."

"Oh?"

"He's not doing so good." He inhaled deeply and wet his lips. "He…he needs you."

Claire swallowed. "What?"

"I know, Claire."

Her frightened eyes gazed in to his. "Know what?"

He shook his head, almost angrily. "Don't…pretend that there's nothing going on between you two. I know there is. Alright?"

Her face reddened and she looked at him in disbelief. "Oh, Des. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you…" She could feel her heart sinking.

He nodded and let his eyes drop to the floor. "It's alright. I understand. Just…you need to talk some sense in to him, okay? God knows why I want to help him," he scoffed. "Maybe it's because I sort of know how he feels." He knew all too well what it was like to spend most of his days drunk senseless, with only the reminders of his cowardice and uselessness as a companion. To be in love with someone he thought he could never be with... "And," he continued, "I only want you to be happy."

She felt her eyes water, unsure how to respond. In some ways she was glad he knew. But his face…she couldn't look at it any longer. She nodded and forced a sad smile before grabbing her purse and her coat. She was almost at the door when he called over to her again, that solemn smile still on that handsome face.

"Before you go," he paused, his brown eyes locked with hers, "I just think you should know that…I love you..."

Oh, God.

She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She would never have dreamt of this ever happening. Her hand reached for the door handle as Des offered her a sad smile, and she disappeared out the front door to try and catch her breath.

(TBC)


	8. Chapter 8

Through the crowd, Claire found it hard to spot Charlie as she scanned the club frantically for him. She couldn't even be sure that he was here, until she heard his troubled voice over the booming music and loud chatter.

"You can't do this! I have a family to support!"

She pushed through a gathering of people just in time to see security throw him out of an office. He stumbled forward and nearly fell flat on his face right in front of her. He paused in surprise and gawped at her.

"Claire," he said softly, embarrassed. He wobbled slightly as he tried to steady himself. "What are you doing here?"

She offered him a quick smile, her blue eyes dazzling in the light. "Des said you seemed down earlier. I came to see you, to talk."

Charlie dusted himself off and frowned. "Since when did that ponce ever give a damn about me?"

"He cares about you, Charlie. We both do."

He glanced at her, his angry scowl fading, touched by the fact she still cared. He smiled slightly and indicated to the exit. "Alright. I guess now I don't have a job anymore I have plenty of free time to talk. Want to get out of here?"

She sucked in a breath and nodded, following him to the exit, and as they pushed through the crowd she couldn't help but notice her hand had automatically found its way in to his.

* * *

"So," Charlie began awkwardly as he rested the room keys on the desk in the corner of the room.

"You've been drinking," Claire frowned as she sat on the hotel bed across from him. She could sense it from where she was sitting.

"Just a bit. I'm fine, Claire. Des just caught me at a bad time," he insisted, and forced a reassuring smile.

She glanced down to her lap and parted her pink lips to speak. "Charlie…Des knows about us."

He exhaled and rubbed his temples. "So does Ana."

She stared up at him uneasily. "So much for our big secret. What are we going to do?"

He wet his dry lips and sat next to her. "Nothing. So they know. There's nothing they can do about it, they can't stop us from seeing each other." He edged closer to her, facing her.

"If we _decide_ to still see each other…"

At that, he withdrew slightly and nodded solemnly. He should have expected this. He of all people should have realised that actions have consequences. "Claire," he refused to look her in the eye at this point, fidgeting beside her anxiously. "I have to tell you something."

She tried to stop herself from trembling as she tried to catch his eye. But he seemed more interested in looking at his own clammy hands as they lay restlessly on his lap. He breathed in shakily and finally raised his eyes to meet hers. Suddenly, she wished he had kept avoiding eye contact after all.

He told her the truth about Ana, his voice hardly above a whisper, his mouth suddenly very dry. He tried so desperately not to look away from her miserable gaze.

She broke it for him, and tore away from him quickly. Having the suspicion was bad enough, but hearing him say it? She nodded and bit her lip, swallowing down her tears. "You lied to me, Charlie."

"I'm sorry," he said, his tone had risen slightly then, perhaps in panic. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I am. And I know I sound like a complete tosser, but it just happened. I don't know, I don't know what…" he sighed. "I wasn't thinking."

She sniffed and pursed her lips together before speaking. "Help me understand, Charlie. Do you have feelings for her? Because as I understand it, I thought you couldn't stand her."

"I can't. I can't explain it. If I could then I would. Me and her…it's just…it's complicated. We were arguing, I was angry -"

"Still not making much sense, Charlie" she commented. "I don't see why you keep going back to her like this."

His mouth hung open for a while and he breathed in a deep sigh before standing and walking over to the wall beside the door. "It meant nothing. It never meant anything with her."

She averted her gaze from him for a moment. "I know. And I know I shouldn't be surprised. She seems to have something over you, whatever it is."

He leant against the wall behind him and shook his head. "I'm not making any excuses. But sometimes I feel like you don't understand what this is like for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I understand, Charlie!" She stood. "I talk to you every day and I sympathise with you, alright? Despite everything I feel bad for you. You don't think things have been hard for me too?"

"I know, of course I do," he frowned, blue eyes shining. "But I can't escape this mess I've put us all in. I tell myself to make the best of it, but you know what? I _can't_. Whatever I do, whatever reason I do it for, I always end up hurting someone. I always end up feeling the same. I have a little baby to take care of with a woman who hates the sight of me, no job and no cash. I have Ana reminding me every second of the day how crappy our lives are and how it's all my fault. Then there's her depression, her screaming at me, her refusal to even look at Paige, to look at _me_ like I'm someone who's trying to help her." He caught his breath, tried to keep his emotions in check. "I make mistakes, alright?" he swallowed, "I'm a bloody fool and I can't…can't…"

He hardly noticed she was at his side now, shushing him, comforting him like he was a child who had just scraped his knee. He stopped talking and she took hold of his arm. "Okay," she said with a gentle nod, eyes gleaming as she looked up in to his. "It's okay."

It wasn't okay, but Claire could see he was all over the place. He couldn't even look at her, his tormented gaze settling in to a black hole of nothingness as he bit down hard on his tongue. It was a lot of information to take in. She was telling the truth when she said she sympathised. It couldn't be easy living the way he did. He didn't have someone like Desmond to brighten his day and remind him that everything was going to be just fine. But that didn't mean things were easy for her either.

Part of the reason her anger had eased was because she still felt guilty for that kiss with Desmond. Granted, that wasn't quite the same. But she knew if she told Charlie the truth he would feel just as betrayed as she had. And they all knew it wasn't as simple as just one kiss…

Perhaps that was why instead of admitting it to him, she leant towards him and kissed him, wrapping her arm around his neck, the other hand on his cheek. He hardly moved at first. In fact, it took a beat before he started to kiss her back and place his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. He felt her tongue touch his and he deepened the kiss, pushing her gently on to the mattress.

She smiled against his lips as he leant over her. Finally it was just them again, alone, together. Her hand ran through his hair and she giggled when he turned his head quickly to kiss her arm, then her shoulder, then her neck…

She almost let herself get lost in his advances. _Almost_. She caught her breath and readjusted her position on the mattress, placing her hands on Charlie's shoulder to get his attention. His eyes beheld hers patiently, curiously, as he gently placed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and then rested his forehead against hers.

"Charlie," she breathed heavily, reality catching up with her, "if we want to make this work, you have to promise me one thing. This…_thing _you have with Ana….this _relationship_…it has to stop."

He pulled away from her slowly, a line between his eyebrows. "Stop? Claire, it won't happen again. It's not like that between us."

"You know what I'm talking about. Maybe you don't intend for it to be like that, but I know what you two are like."

He wished she would stop saying that. He didn't want to be that type of person, and he certainly didn't want Claire thinking he was that type of person either.

"What are you suggesting? That we have absolutely no self-control?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbows as he slid off the bed and stared at her. "Come on, Charlie," she muttered. "How do you think she got pregnant in the first place?"

He felt a persistent stabbing feeling in his chest as silence overcame them. After a long pause, Charlie bit his lip and broke the silence. "You were _mad_ at me, Claire."

"Of course I was!"

"You didn't want anything to do with me!"

"Don't try and pin this on me!" she cried, anger holding back her tears. "Just because you felt bad doesn't make this my fault! You think I wanted this? I was heartbroken, Charlie!"

"Well, so was I!" he cried, breathing deeply. She stared at him with glinting eyes and he locked his gaze with hers. "You weren't there for me when I needed you, Claire! You never understood; I was trying to help! I thought I was helping you, helping Aaron! I was confused and…and alone. You don't know what it's like to feel so alone!"

"Oh I don't know what it's like?" she scorned, talking over him.

He continued with distress in his voice. "You don't know how angry I felt. That night -"

"The night you took Aaron!" She could still remember how petrified she had been.

"The night I took Aaron," he repeated shamefully, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, "and Locke hit me. He humiliated me…I was so bitter, I…I wasn't myself. And I had _nobody._ I needed somebody. And I came across Ana…She was _there_, Claire. I just needed somebody there for me."

Claire looked down, chewing hard on her lip. "Well, she did a lot more than just 'be there' for you, didn't she?" she scowled.

He turned away from her, biting his tongue hard. He drew in a sharp breath. "Well, what about you and Sir DrinksAlot?" he enquired "He always seemed eager to 'be there' for you too."

She rolled her eyes, though felt her cheeks start to redden. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, Charlie. And he hasn't been drunk in a long time. You're the one drinking yourself to death!"

He expressed what seemed to be contempt, his lip curled. "And I suppose he told you this, did he?"

"I told you, he was concerned."

"I don't need his bleedin' pity! Why don't you tell him that? In fact, I'll do it myself," he said, clenching his fist with anger.

"You'll do no such thing!" she sprang up and stared him down. Charlie didn't appreciate her defensiveness.

"Why are you protecting him?"

"He's a good man. He takes good care of me and Aaron, and he never complains."

"He's in LOVE with you!" Charlie almost shouted, but he may as well have according to Claire's reaction. She stepped back slightly, eyes wide and moist. She tried to find her voice but it seemed as though it were lost, echoing in her mind instead. She couldn't talk about this right now. She couldn't handle it.

"I should go," she said quietly, reaching for her coat on the side. Charlie intercepted her.

"He's obsessed," he told her clearly. "You can't trust him. Everything he does is because he wants to be with you. Can't you see it?"

"Enough!" Claire snarled, her eyes searing in to his.

"Has he tried it on with you?"

"Of course not!" she cried, lip trembling. "Don't be absurd."

He shook his head, not tearing his gaze away from those blue gleaming eyes. "I'm not being absurd. I'm not blind, Claire. I know how you feel about him."

She felt sick again. It was almost as if Charlie had opened up her mind, plucking out her deepest thoughts and secrets. It terrified her. Was she that obvious? She turned to walk out.

"Have you slept with him?" she heard his voice behind her, breaking with what seemed to be a painful mixture of sadness and anger. "Don't lie to me."

She stopped, and then very gradually she began to turn around to face him, eyes watering, nose wrinkled with disdain. She kept that same expression as she neared him very slowly and came to a halt directly in front of him. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

He swallowed and glanced from one blue watering eye to the other, the image of her and Desmond together causing his own eyes to moisten. "I don't know anymore."

She couldn't hold it back any longer. She slapped him hard across the face, her own strength shocking even her. Her hand stung and throbbed afterwards and her breathing was heavy and fast, but she couldn't stand such an accusation. Charlie looked surprised, even guilty as he turned his head back to face her and raised a hand to his cheek to soothe the burning. Claire looked ready to burst in to tears, maybe even grab him in an embrace and apologise until he forgave her, but instead she bit her teeth together, turned around and made her way out of the door.

Charlie dropped his hand to his side, exhaled a shaky sigh, and then pulled out the strongest drink he could find in the mini-fridge of the hotel room.

* * *

_21st__ August 2005_

_I met Charlie's daughter today. It was surreal. She was so beautiful, and she looked like him. She was a tiny little thing. I don't even think Aaron was that small when he was born. I also don't think I've seen Charlie that happy for months now. It was a nice change. _

_I still miss him like crazy. I wish now that we could be a family together like before. But I have to accept he has his own family…at least for now. I guess it's hard to let go of someone you love. _

Desmond scanned the page with a sadness in his eye, each word another pain in his chest. He knew it was absolutely fiendish of him to read Claire's diary and felt instant regret as soon as he opened the book. But an unhealthy curiosity overtook him and his eyes were drawn to wherever she mentioned Charlie Pace, the man he seemed to have lost her to.

He noticed his own name at the bottom of the page and he read it carefully.

_Without Desmond, I'm not sure where I would be. I'm so relieved he came back for me and Aaron. It's just whenever we're together, I feel something. I feel like when I first met Charlie. I feel silly and girly and totally obsessed. I'm trying hard not to, but I think I'm starting to fall for him. I'm not sure -_

"Desmond?"

He shut the book quickly and jumped to his feet, noticing Claire standing at her bedroom door, staring at him with pink and narrowed eyes. "Claire…"

"Were you reading my diary?" she demanded, throwing down her bag and coat.

He glanced down to the book and tapped his fingers on it nervously. He had no excuses. "I'm sorry."

Claire wasn't sure how this night could get any worse. She felt a swirling in the pit of her stomach and a painful lump form in her throat. To Desmond's dismay, her face screwed up and she began to cry.

"Claire," he said gently, walking over to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise it would upset you so much."

She swiped at her eyes, sniffing, and waved a hand at him. "It's not that," she sobbed miserably.

Desmond took hold of her with concern. "It's Charlie, isn't it?" His jaw stiffened. "What did he do?"

She shook her head, tears falling. "Oh, Des. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she buried her head in his chest and he held her gently, pulling her closer, a look of confusion on his face.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," he whispered in her ear. She sniffed again and pulled back to look at that handsome face of his; those brown eyes, that defined jaw line. He locked eyes with her, and suddenly she was so glad he was here. She lightly brushed her thumb against his cheekbone before leaning in to kiss him. He hid his surprise, closing his eyelids and pulling her closer to him. His hand was lost in the warmth of her soft hair as they sank on to her bed, the pace of their kisses getting faster and faster.

She felt secure in strong arms and warm flesh then, and he would pause every few minutes to stop and stare at her, smiling down at her through chestnut brown eyes. She'd breathe heavily and bite her lip momentarily before pulling his mouth back on to hers. She tried not to think of Charlie, or Ana. She focused on being with Desmond, realising that her deepest fantasies were at that moment coming true.

And it was perhaps just as she had imagined it to be.

* * *

Charlie rested his head on the door of his apartment, realising the grief he would probably receive if he stepped through to the other side and clashed with Ana. She wouldn't be impressed to find him like this again, that's for sure. He wasn't very impressed with himself at that moment.

Still, there was no use sulking in the corridor feeling sorry for himself. The door pushed open gently and he stepped inside with caution. Ana was sitting on the sofa with her feet up and she looked up at him with a frown.

"How'd things go with your girlfriend?" she muttered, breaking her gaze and glancing back down to the magazine in her lap. "You know, there's a stunning picture of you in here with her. You made the cutest couple." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Please, not now," he mumbled, rubbing the sides of his head with his thumbs. "I'm not in the mood. I just want to…" he paused and sighed. "I don't know what I want." He slumped down beside her and dug his hands in his leather jacket pockets. She looked over at him with an element of surprise.

"So, things didn't go well with Blondie?" she questioned, not bothering to wait for a reply. "A shame is what it is."

He sank back in to the sofa, half hoping it would just swallow him up. There was a beat of silence before he took in a small breath and began to speak again. "I lost my job."

She threw down the magazine on to the coffee table. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Claire. And I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just…" he pinched the skin in between his eyes, his head beginning to pound. "I'm just sorry, alright? For everything."

Ana wasn't sure how to respond; whether she should be angry, relieved, sympathetic. She was too tired to argue. So she accepted the apology and observed the fragile shell of a man who used to be happy, confident and positive, even at the worst of times. She wondered what on earth Claire must have said to him to put him in such a state.

"Are you…alright?"

He glanced at her. A brief smirk played on his lips. "I thought it usually took almost getting hit by a car to ask if I was alright."

She held back ironic laughter. "There's a first time for everything."

His smirk grew in to an amused smile. Ana shifted her position on the sofa to face him, her face falling back in to a frown. She couldn't believe she was going to ask this but, "You really love her, don't you?"

He looked over at her, his mouth open to speak. But in the end, he merely nodded as his eyes stared in to hers with such a sombreness she no longer just felt pity, but a strange sort of sympathy too. Her next question seemed inevitable.

"So, that's it then," she shrugged. "Secret's out. You gonna take the kid and go play happy families with her?"

Was that really what she thought? He stared at her for a few moments in disbelief, and then he edged closer to her, turning himself so that he could look at her properly and emphasise what he had to say next. "I wouldn't do that. Not if you don't want me to. You're her mother and I know you don't see it now, but you love her to bits. I'll help you. We'll get through this together."

Perhaps on any other occasion, Ana-Lucia would have laughed in his face, even scorned at the idea. But man, he was persuasive, and he was looking at her with such kind eyes it was hard not to believe his words. She couldn't form a coherent reply, let alone an insult. She searched her mind for one because she knew it would repel him, knew it would set up those comfortable barriers that stopped people trying to relate to her. That stopped people trying to _like _her. But sometimes with him, it was impossible. Out of everyone who succeeded in fighting their way out of her life, he was one of the few who stuck with her.

"You think you can help me?" her eyes avoided his, a hint of scorn in her voice.

He pushed out his lower lip in consideration and shrugged. "I can try."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want me to."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. He laughed slightly, his smile masking the ache he felt clasping on to his heart. It wasn't as bad as it was an hour ago, he felt a little bit more numb now. But the image of Desmond and Claire was still playing around in his mind. It looked like no amount of alcohol in the world could blur that distressing picture. He sat back slightly and stared at the blank screen of the television, beginning to see images of Claire's heartbroken face play out in front of him. He tried to close his eyes, but the unnerving feeling of the world swaying made his eyes snap back open.

Ana felt a crushing need to change the subject. She took in a deep breath and bit down on her lip. She couldn't believe she was going to bring this up.

"I went to see Doctor Finley today," she sighed and Charlie raised his head towards her curiously. "He says we should…talk more about ourselves. Like that'll solve everything. I thought it was a stupid idea."

"I'd say it's more awkward than stupid," he shrugged. "Somehow I don't think you'd be interested in hearing about my nightmare of a life."

"And vise versa."

"I never said that I wasn't interested in yours. On the contrary, I am absolutely fascinated by you."

"Funny."

He smirked. "So you don't think it'd help?"

"What?"

"Talking about ourselves."

"Not really. You already know most of my…_issues_ already."

"What exactly did he say anyway?" he questioned.

She paused a moment. "He said we should talk about our childhood."

He scorned at that. "No thanks."

"That's what I said."

"Although they say most of your issues in adulthood stem from childhood."

"Thanks for that useless trivia, Freud."

He wrinkled his nose for a moment in thought before turning to face her more closely. "You start."

She stared at him. "What?"

"Say something about your childhood."

"You can't seriously think this is a good idea?"

"Well you do. Otherwise you wouldn't have brought it up."

"You're drunk."

"Stop making excuses and tell me something about your rubbish childhood."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Start with your dad! Everyone has some kind of daddy issues."

Her jaw stiffened and she breathed a sigh. "My dad," she said, avoiding his gaze, "he left when I was a kid. He and my mom always argued and then one day he just left." She glanced at him and noticed he seemed unusually interested in her words. "That's all there is to it. I got over it, I grew up and I stopped caring. It's not a big thing."

"What about your mum?"

"She got over it too. But ever since then she's been big on the tough love." She stared at the ground, unsure why she was bothering to tell him any of this. "To be honest, I've always felt like this big disappointment when I'm around her."

"You're not a disappointment. She loves you."

"Yeah, thanks. But I think I know her better than you do." She looked back towards him. "Your turn. Any daddy issues you wish to reveal?"

Charlie pushed his hair back and inhaled deeply. "My dad left too. Me and my brother were a…pretty big disappointment to him. He didn't like our music ambition, which my mum encouraged, and I think he got tired of it all. It was a bit of a shock when he left. We were kind of close."

Ana rolled her tongue along the inside of her mouth and glanced downwards. "Guess that's one thing we've got in common."

A twisted smile appeared on his lips. "I guess." He paused. "Anyway, after that my mum kind of spiralled downhill. She got ill and I had to take care of her. She died when I was in my early twenties."

She wasn't entirely sure how to react. So she simply frowned and told him she was sorry.

"It's okay. I hardly ever talk about it. And you know the rest…with the drugs…" he took in a deep breath. "It was tough but I got through it. I guess if we hadn't crashed on that island I'd still be doing heroin in dark alleys."

"Yeah, thank God for that plane crash," said Ana, her voice dripping with yet more sarcasm.

His eyes pointed to the ceiling. "I think it's your turn again."

She pursed her lips and squirmed in her seat slightly, hesitating. She found it impossible to look at him as her gaze kept darting back and forth from his eyes to her hands. "I don't know why I'm telling you this," She chewed on her tongue and suddenly she was still, her eyes focusing on her lap. "I guess I'm just sick of keeping it to myself…and doctor Finley." After a sharp breath, she decided to just say it. "I have this fear…of being alone.. I don't know if it's because of my dad leaving or whatever…but there you have it. I've tried to fight it for a long time but…people don't like me, no matter what I do. So I kept to myself. And I didn't make friends." She looked at him solemnly. "And I pushed people away."

"You know, you're not alone, Ana," he said gently.

"Yeah? Well, sometimes it feels like I am," she swallowed, her gaze darting from one of his eyes to the other; green again, and they glinted in the dim light. They shone with a certain kind of sadness and suddenly she was reminded of the first time he had looked at her like that. When he was just as lonely and pathetic as she was.

She supposed he still was.

A moment later and she found that her eyes were closed and that she was kissing him, leaning over him with her hands pressed on either side of his head. His hands were on her hips, pulling her closer, feeling her pleasant warmth against him. This was familiar. The rest of the world was blurring. She crawled over him and clawed through his hair as his hand progressed up her thigh, his other hand now on her warm cheek. A strange feeling swelled in her chest as, sitting up slightly, he pulled her close and felt her curls tickling his face.

The only time they ever connect. Just two lonely people, afraid to be alone. But they didn't have to feel alone.

_This?_

What would _this_ achieve?

As they caught their breaths, their lips touched. Ana-Lucia remembered what the doctor said and wasn't sure whether she should ignore it or not. Charlie couldn't stop thinking about Claire, no matter how much he'd had to drink or what other woman he had on his lap. They didn't get much past kissing before he turned his head, her lips clumsily rubbing against his cheek. He could hear her heavy breathing in his ear, causing him to tremble. She pulled back and gave him a hollow stare.

He said nothing.

All of a sudden she was very aware that she was on top of him and she slowly slid off and took a horrified step back. Their eyes locked together in a silent, wide-eyed gaze for a moment before she spun around and headed for her bedroom.

"Ana!" he called after her, dropping his head in defeat as the door slammed shut. "Sorry." He thought about knocking on her door and explaining why going down that road again was an awful idea, that his heart belonged somewhere else and resolving their problems that way always caused more problems than solutions, but Paige's cries diverted him from that awkward conversation. He wasn't to know that Ana was sitting on the other side of the door, resisting the urge to bang her head against it because she was just as embarrassed as he was, knowing that she hadn't wanted that kind of distraction either. He stood at Ana's door, his hand already raised to knock, but the baby was screaming so loudly he decided it would have to wait, so he dropped his arm and headed for his daughter's room.

* * *

Claire hadn't fallen asleep like Desmond. Her head was rested on his bronze chest, her blonde curls draped over him and her blue eyes staring in to nothingness. His arm was around her, holding her closely to him. It had all been so perfect.

So why didn't she feel happy?

She jumped slightly when the phone rang and Desmond stirred next to her. She watched as his eyes opened sleepily and he smiled down at her. She smiled back and felt his mouth meet hers as he kissed her again.

"Be right back," she said, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping it around her slim figure.

She closed her bedroom door and reached for the phone. "Hello?"

"Claire?"

"Charlie? What are you doing?" she hissed. "Why are you calling me?"

"I know, I shouldn't be, but please don't hang up! I know that you're angry with me and I'm so sorry, honestly. Just please, I need you not to hate me right now."

"Slow down, Charlie," she said, becoming increasingly concerned. "What is it?"

His breath was shaky on the other end of the line.

"It's Paige. Something's really wrong."

TBC

A/N: Fellow PB&J fans, don't feel discouraged! This is not the end of Charlie and Claire! There's just a little while to go yet 'til I resolve this fic.


	9. Chapter 9

Charlie knew that caffeine was a good substance for keeping you awake when you were tired. Your nerve cells speed up, hormones are released, and adrenaline is produced.

This is why Charlie assumed people always bought coffee while they were in the waiting room of the emergency room, so that they could be alert while waiting for news about their loved ones. Now he knew, as he watched the machine's hot liquid pour in to the paper cup in front of him, that it served as the perfect distraction from sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, chewing on his nails, thinking anxiously about his baby girl who was possibly fighting for her life right now.

"Coffee?" he offered Ana who was bent forward in her seat, her head in her hands. She shook her head and Charlie placed the drink on the table in front of her before sitting down beside her, his eyes sore and his skin pale. He risked a look at her. She was incredibly hard to read; she wouldn't show her face, a few loose strands from her pony tail hiding what wasn't covered by her hands. It would occur to Charlie later that all of the progress he had made with her over the months would yet again be destroyed. She wouldn't look at him, wouldn't talk to him. She hadn't spoken a word since they got here.

Charlie considered leaving to get another cup of coffee when he saw a blonde figure run out in to the hall and cry his name.

"Claire!" he exclaimed, and ran in to her embrace. He buried his face in to her soft blonde curls, holding her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. Being in her embrace for a few moments was surely more comforting than any amount of therapy sessions could ever be. Claire held him close and gently ran her hand down his neck.

"Are you okay? What happened? Where's Paige?"

He couldn't stop his features from wrinkling up or his eyes threatening to release tears. "I..I couldn't get her to stop crying," he stammered, "I must have changed her four times, she wouldn't eat, and then she kept being sick. I couldn't help her, I…just…" a tear fell and he sniffed, the image of Paige so weak and sick playing through his mind.

Claire herself felt like crying but she resisted the urge to break in to sobs with him and instead whispered comforting little "shh" noises in his ear and softly moved her hands around in circles on his back. She pulled away after a moment and wiped the tear away with her thumb.

"Have you heard anything yet?"

He shook his head. "The doctor's with her now. God, Claire. If something's happened to her I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself."

"Forgive yourself? Charlie, this isn't your fault."

"How can you be so sure? What if it was something I should have noticed ages ago but didn't because I was too wrapped up with myself?"

She took hold of his shoulders. "Listen to me, Charlie. You're a great father. A wonderful one, in fact. I know this. Don't blame yourself. Please."

He smiled sadly at her and tried to return his breathing to a normal pace. It was at that moment he noticed Desmond Hume rush in and head quickly towards them. Charlie's smile dropped to a surprised frown. He swiped at the moisture on his face.

Desmond looked concerned as he patted Charlie comfortingly on the arm. "I heard what happened, mate. Is she alright?"

Charlie forced a grateful smile before glancing down and sighing. "I really don't know."

"How are you and Ana holding up?" he asked, looking at the woman over his shoulder who was still very much in the same position Charlie had left her in.

"Not brilliant."

Desmond glanced at Claire who looked just as concerned as he did. He took in a deep breath before addressing Charlie again. "Look, brother, I know we've had our differences but I am truly sorry. If there's anything you need, just let us know, yeah?"

Charlie could never suppress the jealousy and bitterness he felt for Desmond but at a time like this, he knew he could use as many friends as possible. He nodded and smiled at him, and for a moment it felt just like old times. "Thanks, Des. That means a lot."

A new voice interrupted them. "Mr. Pace?"

He spun around and saw the doctor looking at him. Claire and Desmond stood together anxiously behind him. "What's happened? Is she alright?"

"She's fine. I need to talk to you and Miss Cortez about a few things before she's able to go home."

"But she's going to be alright, isn't she? She can come home with us today?"

"I'll discuss that with you both now, if you'd just come with me."

He nodded vigorously, turning to look at Claire who smiled at him supportively and Desmond who patted him on the arm again, before following the doctor. He called after Ana who, after ages of hiding herself from the world, raised her head and then joined them.

Outside, Desmond put his arm around Claire and stood with her in silence. She rested her head against his shoulder and hoped that everything would be alright. She still remembered how terrified she was when Aaron was sick. She would have done anything to take away his suffering.

The couple didn't discuss the previous events of the night, nor did they question where their relationship was headed because of it. They just sat and waited, all the bitterness and heartbreak that occurred prior to Charlie's call erased from their minds. At least for now.

It felt like hours later when Charlie and Ana-Lucia came out, their faces pale and tired. Ana muttered something about calling her mother and then disappeared down the corridor. Charlie collapsed in a seat next to Claire and rubbed his forehead with his hand tiredly. Desmond offered to get him some more coffee and left the two alone together.

"What did they say?" asked Claire with concern.

Charlie didn't look at her, his eyes distant and staring off in to space as if he were still processing the information. "Uh," he rubbed his sore eyes. "They've taken her to Intensive Care. She's being treated for Diabetic Ketoacidosis." He slipped up a little on the last word as the surreal events of the past couple of hours swelled in his exhausted mind.

Her blue eyes widened. "Diabetes? But she's so young!"

"It's more common in children…but babies…" he trailed off there, hardly blinking.

"Well, how did this happen? Is she going to be alright?"

"The doctor said there's nothing you can do to prevent it, the disease. It just happens." He sighed shakily. "They're doing more tests on her now. And then they have to go through all this…diabetes information with us."

Claire grabbed on to his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, Charlie."

His lower lip trembled very slightly. "She's going to have to have injections all her life…have regular doctor visits…and I have to design a special diet for her so she gets enough insulin." He leant forward and rested his head in his hands. "Is this some kind of punishment? I didn't want this for her, I didn't want this at all!"

"No one is punishing you!" she said, leaning closer and putting an arm around him. "Everything is going to be fine, Charlie. I know you can get through this. And I'll be right here to help you, I promise."

He looked at her then, teary-eyed. "I'm scared, Claire."

She swallowed back her own tears. "I know. Come here." she cuddled him tightly and didn't want to let go until he stopped crying; until she was able to heal the wounds and give him enough strength to get by. She wished she could. "She's going to be fine," she whispered, "Everything is going to be just fine."

* * *

"No, mom. I don't want you to come down here. It's fine," said Ana in to the phone. "Thanks. I gotta go, I probably shouldn't be using this here. Bye."

After hanging up, she leant against the wall and pressed the phone to her lips. The nightmare continued. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, or shout, or just leave and never come back. Whatever she did, she didn't want to be around Charlie right now.

She thought about being alone so that she could cry like a mother usually would when she finds out her child is sick. Cry all her pain and weakness away as she seemed to be doing more recently. She thought she should cry now, in public, but no matter how hard she tried, she didn't feel like it.

She felt normal.

She heard a cough behind her and turned to see Desmond Hume looking at her with a sympathetic frown. She had never really talked to him much, especially since the baby was born. All she knew was Charlie's jealous rants about him and they bored her to the point that Ana was sick of hearing about him, so she just stared at him and waited.

"I just wanted you to know," he said with polite concern, "that I'm sorry for what you're going through"

"Thanks," she replied, a frown still on her lips.

"What did the doctor say?"

With a quick sigh, she turned around to face him properly. "They said it's type one diabetes."

His eyebrows knitted together and he slowly shook his head. "That's awful, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, it's not your fault."

There was silence for a beat as Desmond glanced to the floor for an awkward moment. "I was just on my way to get some coffee," he told her, glancing up, "do you want to join me?"

She was surprised at the invitation, but even more surprised that she felt willing to accept. "Sure," she said. "Thanks."

They sat together in the hospital cafeteria, sipping at their hot drinks and talking. Ana was surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. Maybe it was simply because she knew she didn't have to see him again.

"You know," she said, swallowing, "you're not as annoying as Charlie makes you out to be."

Desmond chuckled. "Thanks. I think." She smirked at him. "So, how much sleep have you gotten?"

"None."

"You must be exhausted."

She sighed. "I am. But I'm used to it."

He gave a little half-smile and watched her carefully as she glanced down in to the contents of her coffee cup.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, you know," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"It must be hard. With Charlie and the baby, I mean…"

She frowned. "Well, it's going to get much harder now."

"I'm just saying that what you're doing…I admire it. It takes courage to face your problems and responsibilities like that."

"No offence, but what would you know about my problems?"

"I meant it as a compliment…sorry."

She stared at him, his brown eyes looking pleasantly in to hers. There was quiet for a moment as she contemplated whether or not to say what she was thinking of next. "He's been seeing Claire behind my back," she said bluntly, that same frown across her face.

"I know," he said.

She watched the liquid in her coffee cup swirl as she stirred it round and round in circles. "You love her, don't you?"

He laughed very slightly. "What makes you say that?"

"The way you look at her, the way Charlie talks about you two. He's right, isn't he? There's something going on between you two and that's why he's down the club drinking every other night." She watched his serious expression. "And besides, a guy doesn't drop everything to move in with a pregnant mom and look after her kid if he isn't interested in her."

He was silent a beat before forcing a false smile and giving a little shrug. "Maybe you're right."

She raised her cup to her lips. "It's the effect she has on guys," she muttered before taking a sip.

* * *

It seemed like eternity had passed when the rest of the tests were finished and Charlie was allowed to see Paige. He had no idea where Ana was and so asked Claire to come with him, his heartbeat thumping hard and a nauseating feeling building up in the pit of his stomach.

Other than the many terrifying events that happened on that island and perhaps the time he thought Liam had overdosed on heroin many years back, Charlie surmised that this was probably the most scared he had ever felt. He slowly made his way towards a transparent incubator and couldn't breathe until he saw the tiny pink body of his daughter lying weakly inside, tubes sticking out from her and plasters over the sore areas where they had taken her blood.

The doctor confirmed that the ketoacidosis had occurred due to failure of identifying the type one diabetes. He wasn't sure how or why he would have noticed it earlier, but he still blamed himself. The doctor had added that with the right help, she would be just fine and could be taken home soon. They needed to discuss some important things about the disease, organise a meal plan with a nutritionist, and obtain the special equipment that they would need to make sure she got regular insulin doses.

His head was swimming. How were they going to afford all this? Will she ever be happy living this way? Will she be in pain? Where was Ana-Lucia? How did this happen? Why did this happen?

He felt Claire's soft hand clasp around his as they stood above the baby, watching. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her fragile frame. This wasn't right.

Claire found it so hard to see Paige in such an awful state that she had to swallow back her tears. No child should have to suffer like this, and she knew it would be one long struggle for them all from here onwards. She tightened her hold on Charlie's hand and realised she had never asked him about the origin of the child's name.

"My mum liked the name Paige," he answered stiffly, hardly blinking. "It means 'young helper'".

She looked at him, watched his body hang loose and still, as if she were admiring a statue forever posed in the same defeated position. "One day," she said, "Paige should meet Aaron."

His lips formed a smile, though his eyes remained sad and distant. "I'd like that," he replied.

* * *

"Well, what about you and Charlie?" Desmond asked Ana sceptically.

She was sat back in her chair now, barely listening. "What about him?"

"You have a baby together…you live together. Do _you_ have any feelings for him?"

She sniggered a little bit. "I used to hate him."

"Oh really? You could have fooled me," he said with irony.

"You don't have to tell me how complicated our situation is," she chastised before breathing a sigh and looking away from his gaze. "But no, I don't feel anything now." She swallowed. "I feel…nothing."

Desmond was surprised to see a side of Ana he wasn't familiar with. He even found himself feeling sorry for her. She glanced down a moment before focusing her gaze on the cafeteria windows. The sun was rising outside and she could see the orange and red painted across the sky. Suddenly she had the urge to be on the other side of these walls, out there in the sunrise rather than in the bright artificial light of the hospital.

Her heart jumped when Charlie Pace popped out of nowhere, a pained and angry look on his face. "Where the hell have you been?"

She stared right through him. "Right here. With Desmond."

Charlie shot Des the briefest of glares before settling on Ana-Lucia again. "You do realise your sick daughter is lying in a hospital room with tubes coming out of her? Why weren't you there for her? Do you even care?"

Claire was behind him and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Charlie -"

"No!" he shook her off, nose wrinkled. "Why don't you care?" he demanded. "Are you even trying?"

Ana didn't move from her seat. She simply looked at him, and frowned, like a mischievous schoolgirl intent on annoying her teacher.

Desmond got to his feet awkwardly. "I think Claire and I should get back and leave you to it. I hope Paige will be alright." He walked over to Claire who smiled sadly and squeezed Charlie's shoulder, insisting she'd talk to him later. Charlie watched them go, noticing the closeness of which they walked and the suggestiveness of their body language as Des placed his hand on the small of Claire's back, leading her towards the exit. But he couldn't worry about that now. He sat in the chair opposite Ana-Lucia and watched her, his brows furrowed and his lip curled.

"You can't even pretend, can you?" he said through pink and narrowed eyes. Ana-Lucia ignored him. "Look at me." He leant forwards. "What is wrong with you?"

She looked at him: blue tearful eyes, dirty blonde hair, five o'clock shadow forming around his mouth. "What do you want from me?"

He dropped his head and ran a hand through his hair, wanting to rest his head on the table and just fall in to unconsciousness without having to worry about the emotionless Ana-Lucia sitting opposite him or his sick child down the hall. "You know what? I'm through with being strong for the both of us. I can't do it anymore, I can't. If you want to feel sorry for yourself all the time, then fine. I can't help you. Is that what you wanted to hear? You're beyond help," he told her fiercely, glaring at her now.

Frowning, she sat in silence as he began to stand up. But part of her wanted to say something to him, to grab hold of him and shake him as hard as she could, to tell him he had no idea what she was feeling. She thought of her talk with Desmond and wondered why it had been so easy to talk to him and not the father of her only child. She said nothing and watched him stand, pushing his chair back and storming off like a two-year-old having a tantrum. But she knew that he was just being the caring, considerate father figure he was, and it seemed that she was destined to always be the emotionless bitch who apparently couldn't care less .

* * *

As soon as Claire collected Aaron from Mrs Evans' house, she gave the baby the biggest cuddle she could manage. She had never been so relieved that he was healthy and happy. She had a funny feeling in her tummy whenever she thought of Paige and her illness and hoped desperately that she would have the strength to get through it. She had always been a tiny little thing, and she seemed ever so weak, but if she was anything like her father, Claire knew she'd find that inner strength that would help her survive. They both would, she knew it.

Desmond opened the door for her as she carried the little boy in her arms. He noticed the unease on her face and asked her if she was okay.

"Yes, I'm okay. I'm not the one at the hospital right now," she said, holding Aaron closer to her. He squirmed in her arms and grabbed at her hair, calling her "mummy" and muttering "No! No!" when she refused to put him down.

"I'm sure they'll be fine, Claire. It's their problem. There's nothing you can do."

"I can be there for them," she suggested, finally putting the boy down and watching him crawl towards his toy cars.

"Of course you can," he forced a smile. "But keep in mind, they need to be together. As a family."

She looked at him sadly, her eyes twinkling in the morning light. _A family. Right._

Walking over to her, he placed a hand on both of her shoulders. "They'll be fine," he smiled reassuringly. "And I was kind of hoping we'd be able to talk about…us now."

"Us?"

His eyebrows furrowed and he took a confused step forwards. "Claire, we slept together last night," he said in a hushed voice. "I thought that meant something."

She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "Right. I know. It did. It does!" she insisted.

"It meant a lot to me," he told her. "You know how I feel about you. And I thought you felt the same."

"I do," she said quickly. "It's just…so much has happened. I need a minute to process it all."

He nodded understandingly, though a look of disappointment flashed on his face. "Okay. I understand." He offered a sad smile and began to turn round.

"Des," she called, and locked eyes with his as he turned to face her. "It did mean something to me. Really. It was perfect."

He smiled and approached her, kissing her briefly on the lips. "I'll make you breakfast." She forced a smile back as he placed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and then left to head for the kitchen. She didn't feel like telling him that she wasn't hungry, and actually felt a little bit sick.

She couldn't help thinking of Charlie as she observed little Aaron pull himself up and waddle over to the armchair with a miniature red bus in the one hand, the soft cuddly toy polar bear in the other. Perfect? she thought unhappily. Why did she feel like her life couldn't be further from it?

* * *

The door was left open as Charlie burst in and started to search the flat for Paige's things, ready to collect them all in a carrier bag. There was her dummy, and her stuffed animals, and her favourite blanket, and the stories Charlie read her despite her not being able to understand them yet…

"You won't need all that," Ana said dejectedly. "They only said bring a few things."

"It's better to be prepared," Charlie told her sternly without looking up from his search.

"Are you going to stay there all night?" she asked.

"If I can then yes. You stay here if you want."

He found the dummy that had succeeded in silencing Paige not long before and he threw it in the bag. It was then that he felt a swirling in his gut and his head became very light and dizzy. He stumbled slightly and steadied himself by leaning against the arm of the sofa.

"Okay?" Ana asked him, walking over to him.

"Yeah," he breathed, waving her away. "I'm just tired that's all."

"You need to take five minutes."

"I'm fine."

"Have some water."

She poured him a glass and gave it to him, and he drank it all in one gulp. "Thanks."

"You should sit down," she said, perching on the arm of the sofa.

"I can't sit down. I have to look for her things."

"She doesn't need them. Just sit down and shut up for a minute," she snapped.

"How can you be so calm about this?" he questioned vehemently.

"Because I can," she mumbled, looking to the ceiling.

Looking at her then made his fingers twitch with aggravation; her uncaring attitude, her relaxed posture, her inability to comprehend the severity of the situation. Right then he wanted her to leave, or for him to leave. Just as long as he didn't have to see how little he cared for their child.

"You know, I thought you had changed," he snarled. "All those months we've spent together, the talks we've had. I thought there was some civilised part of you that had decided to let all this go; all this hate and anger. But no, the idea of having a kid with me is so bloody devastating you couldn't care for her at all. It's not normal!" He shook his head at her and turned away.

That was it.

Grabbing his wrist and squeezing hard, she forced him to come to a sudden halt. Stunned, he turned his attention back to her as she glared in to his tired and pale features.

"Look, you _think_ you know how I feel, but you can't possibly understand. I don't even understand it. You want to know why it seems like I don't care? Well, I don't know. I just…feel like I can't live through every day like this. I don't want to get up in the mornings, I don't want to see anyone, talk to anyone. I don't want to DO anything. It's too hard. There's nothing to be happy about, nothing to look forward to. Just an endless black hole of nothingness. And I look at you, and you're different." She paused for breath, her hand still to tight around his wrist he feared it may drop off. "You don't know how bad I feel just looking at you, and her. You're both so incredibly different and I don't understand it. I don't understand why I can't be like that with her, why I can't just be her mother. Someone who loves her and wants to take care of her. All of this, it just makes me _angry _and _miserable. _And when I'm not feeling angry or miserable, I don't feel anything at all. It's not who I am, Charlie. I'm not like you. It's not the life I was ever supposed to lead. So maybe you're right. Maybe you can't help me, maybe no one can. But you can't expect me to change over night because something like this happens. You can hate me, and you can think I'm an awful mother and a terrible person and a cold, heartless bitch who doesn't give a damn about anyone but herself, but don't for a second make the mistake in believing that you think any worse about me than I think about myself." She threw his hand away, having finished a speech so powerful, even she was surprised.

The building may as well have collapsed around him. Now Charlie felt like the schoolboy, chastised by his teacher. He wasn't sure what to think, nevermind forming a response, so he stood there in silence a while and they both avoided the other's gaze awkwardly until he decided to attempt a reply.

"I don't…hate you," he began, his voice quiet. "And I don't think you're a bad mother, or a terrible person. How can I think those things of you?" he asked. "You're the mother of my child."

"Stop it," she muttered.

He studied her: those indifferent eyes of hers that he was so used to seeing suddenly seemed unbearably sad. Unsure of what to say, he found himself moving closer to her. Then, very cautiously, with one arm he began to pull her towards him in an embrace. He expected her to pull away or shove him back, but she just stood there, rooted to the floor. It was clear to him then as his cheek came in to contact with the warmth of her curls, that this was the closet he had probably been to her without a selfish ulterior motive. It occurred to him that perhaps she wasn't used to this kind of closeness, that she may not know how to be close to a person without romantic involvement. The idea saddened him before he realised that, before this, he had almost forgotten how himself.

"Thank you," he said gently in to her ear, "for telling me how you feel. Now perhaps we can work on it." She didn't have the energy to reply with a sarcastic comment, or push him away when he wrapped an arm around her, or slap his hand away when he placed it on her cheek and smiled tiredly at her. But something felt missing when he pulled away from that awkward embrace. That was enough to stun her in to silence for a fair while. She thought maybe he felt it too when the phone's ring interrupted them and their hearts jumped.

"Hello?" He sounded groggy as he answered it, and Ana noticed how his facial expression changed when he heard who it was on the other line. "Yeah, I'm here." He turned around and wandered in to the kitchen area. "No, it's okay. We don't need anything. She's fine. Thanks. I'm going to go over there again in a bit. Yeah." He paused a beat. "What?" Silence. "Claire, please. Is this just because of Paige? She's fine. I'm fine. Where is this coming from?" He turned slightly to hide his face from Ana. "Aaron? What about Aaron?" Ana approached curiously from the corner, seeing Charlie's back hunched over slightly in a failed attempt to hide himself, and the phone pressed to his ear. "You don't think I consider the future? Then…fine. Yeah. I understand. It's okay. Yeah. I'll see you."

Charlie would always remember that day as not only the day his daughter was diagnosed with type one diabetes, but also the day that Claire told him she just wanted to be his friend, that what happened to Paige was a sign that they should be thinking of their families and their children's future. That she would always love him, and always be his closest friend, but that being lovers was never going to work.

It didn't take him long to figure out that Desmond Hume must be behind this, stealing her heart and capturing her affections while Charlie was living a totally different life, struggling to control his emotions at the same time as trying to raise a baby. Even through the bitterness and loss he felt, he couldn't waste time wallowing in self-pity over it. He had to concentrate on Paige. She was his priority at the moment.

"Who was that?" Ana asked as Charlie slowly turned around, surprised to see her so close.

"You know who it was. I don't want to talk about it." He walked passed her, a look of frustration on his face.

"You don't need her, you know," she called after him.

"Yeah? Who else have I got?" he questioned her. "Not her, not Des. And you hate me."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I don't hate you," she repeated his words from earlier, and he repeated hers.

"Stop it."

She shrugged. "I used to."

"I can't _do _this right now, okay?" He stressed, a hand reaching for his burning forehead. She thought his reaction was strange. Did he not believe her? Or did he simply not care anymore? "I'm going back to the hospital. You can come with me or stay here." He grabbed the bag and hurried towards the door where he collided in to Ana, her body tall and stiff in front of him and acting as a barrier, preventing him from passing.

"Don't leave."

He barely looked up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his teeth angrily. "Please get out of my way. One of us has to be there for her." He caught her eye, and this time saw some feeling in them. She loosened up a little and he pushed past her, reaching for the door. He paused there for a moment and turned to look at her, watching her head hang low and her hair fall loosely down her back. "I wish you'd come with me," he told her, although he knew she wouldn't. Not yet, and so with one last lingering glance, he stepped out of the door and left.

Ana-Lucia stared vacantly around the empty flat and frowned. No crying baby, no annoying ex-rockstar trying to counsel her, no persistent reminders that she was an absolute failure. She was just alone.

But things were much too quiet now.

TBC

A/N: Thanks to all still reading, it does mean a lot! Still writing this, just taking a while to update. About the diabetes plot; I'm sorry if I got any facts/info wrong about it. I didn't know a lot about it before writing this so I did a lot of research and tried to make it work, lol. I hope it made sense here.


	10. Chapter 10

**One Month Later.**

Blue eyes slowly opened and stared lazily above towards the fuzzy ceiling. It was early in the morning and the world was still in darkness. Claire tore herself away from the warmth of Desmond's chest and crawled out of bed hesitantly.

All was silent as Charlie woke up to find himself staring at the back of Ana-Lucia's head, her hair in his face and smelling overwhelmingly sweet. Darkness swirled around him as he sat up in bed and wiped his eyes, placing the baby monitor he had clutched in his hand on the nightstand.

Claire poured herself some cereal in the kitchen, turning on the radio at low volume. She shovelled cornflakes in to her mouth while humming along to the tunes. Her face scrunched up in disgust and she scraped the remaining cornflakes in to the bin.

Charlie dug in to the leftover banoffee pie in the fridge, his eyes distant and zombie-like. He leant over the counter, yawning, and threw the box in with the rest of the rubbish.

Claire smiled and kissed Aaron on the head when he willingly ate his breakfast instead of throwing it on the floor, or wearing it. The baby giggled and pointed when a messy-haired Desmond came in to the room. Claire turned and grinned warmly at him.

Charlie held the needle in his hand and felt his wrists suddenly go weak, watching little Paige squirm and suck her thumb happily on the table below him. He remembered what the doctor said, he had the instructions on his knee so he could check and double check and triple check what he was doing, but his heart raced and his forehead sweated with uncontrollable nerves.

"You've done this a hundred times already. Why are you still having trouble with it?" Ana-Lucia asked as she came in to the room, still dressed in her vest and underwear. He blinked at her and frowned, the needle awkwardly placed in his hands.

"I will never get used to this."

"Yes, you will."

"I can't. I don't like hurting her."

She sighed and joined him on the sofa, pushing him aside. "Not doing this would be hurting her. Let me do it." He watched her and it was over in a matter of seconds. She removed the needle and placed the little plaster on the tiny spec of blood. Paige's expression scrunched up and she began to cry. Ana shot Charlie a look and he nodded, standing and picking the baby up gently before rocking her and singing softly.

"You're going to have to get used to it, you know," Ana informed him without moving or looking at him.

"I know," he said, patting the baby's back gently. "It's just hard."

"Just think about what will happen if you don't do it," she suggested, getting to her feet and wandering over to the kitchen area to find some breakfast.

Charlie decided he would rather not think about it.

* * *

In the four weeks that had passed, Claire and Charlie had hardly spoken. Charlie was understandably busy with Paige and Ana-Lucia, and Claire was experiencing life as Desmond Hume's girlfriend - or whatever it was she had become to him. She knew that Desmond loved her, and they spent a lot of time enjoying the other's company, but her heart still belonged to Charlie. And something felt painfully missing when she was holding Des in her arms at night and kissing his lips.

Life wasn't perfect, but she was lucky. Lucky to have a kind person that loved her and her son, a person who would look after them and never hurt them. Lucky to have a beautiful and healthy little baby who was all hers, and lucky to have a nice place to live where the people were nice and friendly.

Some people didn't have those things.

She sighed, and then glanced towards Desmond's handsome face as he stepped in to the room with his arm half in his coat. "Right. Best be off. Got lives to guard," he chuckled and leant towards her to kiss her on the lips.

She smiled a genuine smile. He always made her smile. That was something, she thought. It was nice to be with a man that made you smile a lot. "Be careful," she said.

Placing her blonde hair behind her ear, he smiled warmly at her and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you," he told her. Her smile disappeared and she glanced awkwardly to the side for a moment. "It's okay," he said. "You don't have to say it. I understand. And you know, if you ever think this is going too fast, just say something. I just want you to be happy."

She wanted to love him more than anything at that moment. She didn't say a thing, but she offered him a shy smile and watched him as he waved and said his goodbyes. As the door shut, she let out a quiet sigh and contemplated what love - and happiness - really was.

Any girl would be lucky to end up with Desmond Hume.

And that's what she was. Lucky.

* * *

"Yeah, hello? I was wondering if I could get an interview…"

"I understand you're busy…"

"No, I don't want to buy anything. I was hoping for a job?"

"I realise I don't have a lot of experience, but I really think if you give me the chance…."

"I'd really like the chance to discuss this with you in person if you'd let me…"

"Yes, I was in a plane crash some time ago. Yeah, I survived. I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?"

"You know what? Second thoughts. You can stick ya lousy job."

Charlie threw the phone down. No such luck. No one wanted an interview with him, no one wanted to hire him. No one wanted to help him. Ana-Lucia emerged from the bedroom, dressed in her running gear. As she placed an earphone in her ear, she glanced at Charlie from across the room and read his disappointed look of rejection. "No luck?"

"Nope."

"We need the money," she told him with a frown.

"I'm working on it," he promised.

"I could go back to work and earn the money myself."

"Yeah, but….remember that conversation we had? It's dangerous. And besides…you're not…_well, _are you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I wish people would stop treating me like I have some mental illness."

"It is a mental illness, isn't it? Depression."

"Like I said, I'm fine. It's my problem. I decide how bad it is."

"Your mum would never let you," he said, picking up the phone again. "Especially now."

"Yeah, well, she can't tell me what I can't do."

"She can. She's your boss."

"Shut up," she mumbled, shaking her head. "I'm going out."

"Have fun," he said, already dialling. As Ana left the apartment, Charlie pressed the phone to his ear anxiously, and was relieved to hear the person on the other end pick up.

"Hello?"

"Liam. Hi."

"Baby Brother!" Liam's voice replied excitedly. "How's everything? The little one alright?"

"She's fine for now. Still getting used to everything."

"We've sent over a Christmas card for you. Megan wrote a separate one for Paige. I think she likes the idea of having a baby cousin. When do you think we'll get to see her in person?"

"Soon, mate. I'm sorry. Things are just hectic right now. I want you to see her. She's even better up close."

"I'm sure she is. Tell me, how are things with the missus?"

"Funny," Charlie replied sarcastically. "I think she's a little better. I mean, we've talked. And we've tried to figure some stuff out."

Which was partly the truth, he thought. They'd talked and argued as normal, only now with a better understanding of each other. Ana-Lucia was still difficult and reserved, but Charlie had become less concerned over time, especially since his birthday the other week when he discovered a suspicious looking card addressed to him apparently from Paige. When he had asked Ana - who had of course given him nothing - about the mysterious birthday message, she refused to give an answer and left him alone. He had a good feeing then.

"How's the job hunt going?"

"Well, let's just say at this point, I think the island wasn't such a bad place after all."

"Don't say that!" Liam said, his voice full of brotherly concern. A concern that Charlie now believed to be totally genuine. "You'll find something."

A brief pause. Charlie sat down on the sofa and glanced towards Paige's room. "Is life always this….hard?"

"Bit different without the drugs, isn't it?" His brother told him. "It'll get better. You'll see."

Before Charlie could ask how things could possibly improve at that point, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "I've got to go. Talk to you soon, yeah?"

"Absolutely. Give Paige a kiss from her Uncle!"

"Will do." He was already at the door when he hung up the phone, thinking Ana must have forgotten something or another neighbour wanted to bother him with something trivial. He nearly dropped the handset when he saw Claire Littleton at his door, her young son in a pram beside her. "Claire," his jaw dropped. "Hi."

"Hey, Charlie," she smiled warmly as she placed blonde hair behind delicately pale ears.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just remembered that I said I should bring Aaron over one day to see Paige," her eyes glanced downwards. "I would have called but…the phone was engaged."

"No, that's great," he smiled suddenly, overcoming his initial surprise. "I'm glad you came! Come in," he held the door open for her and waved at Aaron as the infant sucked his thumb and stared up at him with large blue eyes. Claire looked curiously around the flat.

"I like your apartment," she smiled nervously through grit teeth. It wasn't that bad, but seeing the flat compared to her house made her feel even worse.

"Thanks," he said, following her gaze around the room. "Uh, take a seat. Sit down. Do you want anything? Cup of tea?"

"I'm fine," she told him, unbuckling Aaron from the pushchair and sitting him down on her knee.

"You sure? If you haven't already had lunch I could see if I can make any peanut butter sandwiches."

She giggled and let her blonde hair flow down past her shoulders, her grin making her glow with absolute serenity and beauty. God, he had missed her…

"I'm fine," she said again, still smiling. "I've had such a craving for them, I think my stomach needs a rest. But we would like to see that lovely daughter of yours if she's feeling up to it."

"Sure," he smiled, and felt excitement at the thought of Aaron meeting Paige. "I'll just go and get her."

Aaron's face lit up when he saw her, and the adults laughed at his reaction. He grinned and grabbed her tiny hands and little feet, he kissed her on the head and then threw over his polar bear for her to play with. Paige watched the little boy with large eyes and began to cry when the strange white fluffy toy made contact with the side of her head.

"Careful, Aaron!" Claire grabbed him and squeezed him close to her. "She's only little, sweetie."

"It's alright," Charlie told the pouting child as he squirmed in his mother's embrace. "She just wants a cuddle." So he picked her up, kissed her on her forehead, and rested her over his shoulder. The crying ceased.

Claire couldn't contain her smile. "She's so cute. I'm glad we got to do this."

"Me too. It's been nice, us all together for once. Just us."

"Yeah." Her eyes glinted and she looked at Charlie with the sincerest of smiles, which he returned cheerfully. "So…how has everything been? Since Paige was in hospital."

"Oh, um, it's been alright," Charlie answered evasively, patting Paige's back gently.

"How was your birthday?"

"Fine, thanks." Although it hadn't been particularly exciting: a normal day, with a few extra letters in the mail and a couple of gifts to keep him occupied. "Thank you for the books."

"Oh, you got them?"

He took one of them off the coffee table: a guide to being the parent of a sick child, etcetera. A thoughtful and helpful gift; he had been reading them every day since receiving them in the post, although he had been a little disheartened that Claire hadn't delivered the books herself. "It's been a great help."

"I'm glad," she smiled.

"I've missed you," he admitted after a beat of silence, catching her gaze briefly before looking back to the table top awkwardly.

"I've missed you too, Charlie." She put a hand on his arm, smiling saccharinely.

"How...how is everything with you?"

Her smile faded ever so gradually. She knew what Charlie wanted to know. She hadn't brought herself to directly tell him that she and Des had become an item, but on some level she knew he most likely had figured it out already. He had always suspected it, and now he would be right. Her lips parted as she tried to find the right words. She hesitated, and then someone pushed the front door open.

Charlie jumped to his feet, as if he had been in the middle of a devious task, still holding baby Paige against his shoulder carefully. "Ana," he said, startled. "You're back."

Ana-Lucia wiped the sweat from her forehead and panted, having just returned from her morning run only to be greeted by several flights of stairs because the elevator was still broken. "Yeah," she murmured, eyeing Claire from the corner of her eyes. "I'm back."

Claire turned around on the sofa and smiled politely at the woman. "Hey."

Ana nodded in her direction, still catching her breath. "Hey."

"Claire brought Aaron over to see Paige," Charlie explained with a nervous smile.

Aaron hid behind his mother, clinging on to her legs with a sudden shyness. Claire had never seen her son like this before. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked with concern, looking down at her one-year-old.

Ana felt her chest tighten and a certain bitterness sweep over her. She took one last glance at them and without another word headed straight for the bathroom to get cleaned up. Aaron relaxed a little then and grabbed his toy polar bear again.

Charlie grimaced humorously. "Ah."

"I hope she's alright," Claire said half-truthfully. "I hope my being here didn't upset her."

Charlie knew what had upset her, and he guessed Claire probably knew as well, but he didn't say anything more about it.

"Perhaps I better go."

"You don't have to."

"I think I do." She smiled sadly before sweeping Aaron up in her arms and holding him towards Charlie and Paige. "Say bye, Aaron!"

"No!" squealed Aaron, pulling a funny expression. But when he saw Paige's sleepy face against Charlie's chest, he smiled and suddenly added, "Ba ba."

Claire kissed him on his blonde forehead. "That's how he says bye," she explained to Charlie. He just laughed and tapped the boy on his nose.

"See ya, mate. It's been great seeing you again."

Aaron grinned widely for a moment and then began to suck his little thumb innocently. Claire leant over and held Paige's tiny hand gently between her fingers.

"Goodbye, gorgeous. You be strong now."

Charlie helped carry the pushchair over to the door and said his goodbyes there too, trying to resist the urge to kiss her. Instead, they settled for a somewhat awkward hug followed by a longing, lingering glance before Claire and Aaron finally disappeared round the corner.

"Is she gone?" Ana asked behind him, wiping her face with a dry towel.

"Yeah," he turned around to face her. "Look, about -"

"I know what you're going to say so you might as well save it."

Charlie decided to say it anyway. "It was only because he hadn't seen you in a long time. He didn't know who you were. Kids are just like that."

"Yeah, whatever."

He exhaled and paused for a moment, shaking his head. He glanced upwards again. "Come on," he said as he began to prepare something in the kitchen. "You're going to feed Paige."

"Not again. I can't. It doesn't work."

"Of course it does," he told her, setting up the bottle. "It's easy." He walked over to her and handed her the bottle of milk.

"I don't have to do what you say," she glared at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know," he replied simply. "But you will. Because you want a change, and so do I. Look, you're doing great. You might not think it but you are. And you said yourself, these things take time. Just try it. Trust me."

Taking the bottle, she released a frustrated sigh. "Fine. If it'll shut you up. Let's get this over with."

Charlie collected the baby and sat with Ana on the couch, gently holding Paige out towards her. He indicated for her to hold out her arms. "Careful," he warned. "Get her head and hold her upright a little bit."

Ana held the baby awkwardly, frowning and sighing and trying to suppress agitated tears. She raised the bottle with her other hand and pointed it towards Paige's mouth. Nothing happened.

"I don't think she's hungry."

"Oh, she's always hungry. She's got my appetite," Charlie grinned.

"That's the last thing we need," she replied, eyebrow raised.

"You're doing fine. Just be gentle, maybe try and talk to her."

"Talk to her?" she scorned. "She won't understand me."

"It doesn't matter. You know, babies can distinguish between their parents just by hearing them talk and feeling their touch. Maybe all she needs is to get to know you better."

"I'd still rather not."

"You might as well try."

"I can't."

"You're never going to get anywhere if you don't try."

She looked down at the baby girl in her stiff arms nervously. She felt ridiculous. This wasn't her, this wasn't what she did. But how would she know if she never tried? She bit down on her tongue and avoided the baby's large brown eyes which were staring at her innocently.

"Hi. It's your mom."

God. The word felt so foreign when applied to her. So wrong, so surreal. She wanted to get up and leave before she embarrassed herself any further.

"Look at her," Charlie told her. "It'll help."

So reluctantly, Ana did. Those large brown baby eyes, gazing up at her, shining with such typical baby innocence. Ana couldn't help feeling envious for a brief moment.

"It's me," she said in an automatic voice. "Your mom." A sigh. "It would help me out a lot if you would let me feed you." A pause. "This is stupid."

"It's not," Charlie shook his head vigorously. "Trust me. It's all part of the bonding process. I read it somewhere. Feeding time is a huge bonding opportunity for mother and baby, particularly if you breast-feed."

"Let me stop you right there, Chuckie," she said suddenly, looking as though she were about to bite his head off.

"Relax," he almost laughed. "Keep going. Loosen up a little and just act natural."

She scowled at him.

"Well, perhaps not totally natural," he added. "Just do it in your own time, but preferably before she starves to death."

"Ha," she replied rather sarcastically, and looked back down at Paige who was starting to wriggle around uncomfortably. The kid's nose wrinkled and her large brown baby eyes started to crease. Ana feared the thing would start to cry. "I can't do this," she said suddenly, handing Paige back to Charlie. It was ironic, she thought, how easy she could inject her child with a needle and yet she wasn't even able to feed her a bottle of milk.

"Don't say that. You'll get it with time," he assured her, though she could tell he was concerned. "Look, watch me do it."

It was so simple. And quick. All he did was say a few stupid words, in a rather childish manner, and that was it. Of course Ana had seen this 'Baby-Talk' method several times before, but just how was it going to help her?

"Next time you should do it. You'll make a connection," Charlie explained, cradling the baby as she fed happily.

"I'm not talking like that," she retorted. Hadn't she embarrassed herself enough? "All this baby stuff," she added with difficulty. "I'm just not cut out for it."

Something changed in his expression then. "Can I ask you something? When we crashed on that island and I was on one side, and you were on the other, how on earth did you ever manage to become the leader of your group?"

Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Excuse me?"

He got to his feet, perhaps to give more of an effect to his words. "You stood up and took responsibility," he continued. "You chose to take care of the people in your group, to protect them. You accepted that challenge and you can accept this one."

She had never seen it that way before. But this was about a child: _her_ child. And yet she felt more comfortable protecting a group of strangers than her own baby? Perhaps Charlie was right. If she could face her fears and experience the worst of nightmares on that island, she could learn to be a mother to her own daughter.

She nodded thoughtfully, wondering how long this positive attitude would last.

* * *

Claire wiped a tear from her eye as she opened the door to the house. She couldn't be certain why she was crying, but she felt overwhelmed for some odd reason. Perhaps it was seeing Charlie again; seeing Paige and Ana; seeing them as a family, together. Accepting that she and Charlie were just friends and trying to ignore the feelings she had for him.

She felt sick.

Aaron raised his little arms and Claire lifted him from the pram. "I'll be happy as long as I have you in my life," she sniffed, burying her face in to his fluff of hair. She bent over to put him down and when she shot back up again, she had the most unusual head-rush.

Her left side suddenly felt very heavy and she swayed with dizziness. Putting a hand to her head, her vision blurred and she stumbled forwards towards the kitchen. All of a sudden, she felt very ill and lost all balance as she tumbled to the floor and collapsed in to unconsciousness, her body sprawled across the ground and her blonde hair spread over her pale face.

"Mumma?" Aaron's voice echoed in to the emptiness.

Silence.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

"Claire? Oh, my God, Claire! Can you hear me?"

A voice was heard over deep breathing. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale Exhale._ Claire thought she must be in bed, her body refusing to remove itself from the safety of her mattress. She heard crying. Aaron? And a voice. Where was it coming from?

"Wake up! Please wake up, Claire! Look at me!"

She felt the earth beneath her disappear, her body turning over, and arms envelope her tightly. It was in that moment she realised that her eyes were slowly opening to see Desmond Hume's chestnut brown ones gleaming above her. His face blurred. She felt so incredibly tired.

"No, don't close your eyes. It's okay, I'm here. Are you okay, do you know where you are?"

"I'm in Charlie's house," she whispered, a dreamy smile across her lips. She shut her eyes again.

"Claire! Open your eyes!"

"Desmond?" Her forehead creased with confusion and she struggled to open her eyelids.

"Yes, it's me. Are you alright?" he asked her, alarm in his voice.

She could still hear Aaron wailing from the other side of the room, in the same spot she had put him in earlier. She remembered now. "I..I think I fainted," she stuttered, her hand raising to her head which pounded painfully. "I..I fell."

"You're okay now," Desmond promised her, holding her close and kissing her forehead. His racing heartbeat was slowing down a bit now. Claire, still recovering, buried her head in to his chest, her knees and head aching. "You're okay now," Des whispered again in her ear, and she let herself be comforted in his embrace.

* * *

"Welcome back, Ana," doctor Finley greeted as she was lead in to his office. "Is Charlie not joining us this time?"

She scorned at the idea. "He's very insistent on coming to these sessions lately. He's right behind me, don't worry."

"Ah, Charlie!" the doctor exclaimed upon seeing him struggle through the door with Paige in her pram.

"Sorry," he apologised as he entered the room. "Had to bring the cherub along. Grandma's busy and well, we have nobody else."

"It's fine. Come in, come in. It'll be a family session then," the doctor smiled, scratching his beard, addressing Charlie but paying close attention to the woman who had already seated herself in one of the chairs in his office. "Let's start shall we? How is everything after what happened? Are you adjusting well?"

"We're trying our best," Charlie answered, sitting next to Ana. "It's been a struggle but we'll get through it, won't we?" he said, turning to face her.

Ana offered a half-smile in reply and shrugged one shoulder. Doctor Finley noticed this curiously. She obviously had no confidence in what Charlie was saying.

"You've both been through a lot of changes recently. How exactly are you dealing with these new adjustments?"

"Well, I've been trying to get a new job," Charlie replied, trying to seem positive. "Except it hasn't been going so well. There's just so much to pay for - there's the basic necessities like food, there's Paige's treatment, and of course these sessions."

"We'll find the money," Ana added bluntly. "I'm still trying to get my job back but everyone thinks they know what's best for me."

"Ana, only you can decide if you're ready to go back to work," Finley told her. "But you have to consider that there are other people in your life now who rely on you."

Ana glanced towards Paige and sighed. "I know."

"She's really trying with Paige," Charlie told the doctor optimistically. "She's doing really well. She fed Paige her bottle this morning."

"Hardly," she scorned, "and please don't talk about me like I'm some kid out of High School," she complained.

"And how do you think you're doing, Ana?"

She shrugged her shoulder. "You tell me. Do I look like I'm doing okay?"

The doctor observed her sitting upright in her seat; straight faced, uncomfortable, far away from her child. He cleared his throat. "We all know that this is going to be a slow process. Don't try to rush anything unless you feel you're ready. One day at a time." He noticed the lack of motivation in her expression, obviously doubtful. "Just think about how much you have achieved compared to before. Could you have even thought about feeding your baby a month ago with no problems?"

"No," she replied, her eyes focused on her fidgety hands.

"That's progress," he continued. "Charlie's right, you're doing well."

She ignored Charlie's encouraging smile and doctor Finley's analysing gaze. She wasn't sure what to think. She didn't feel like she was making progress at all.

"Now," Finley added, putting his hands together. "Let's talk about you two."

"Us?" Charlie repeated, pointing at himself with confusion.

"Yes. Tell me, how is the relationship going?"

Charlie turned to Ana who dropped her gaze awkwardly. "It's…okay. I think. We're communicating better, I'd say. I mean…this whole arrangement was for Paige's sake. I think she's our top priority here…"

"Of course, but I'm not talking about Paige anymore," he replied, glancing at the child who had already fallen asleep in her pram. "I understand this is a complicated situation with many complex feelings and emotions in the relationship. And as I understand it, it was making for a very toxic and unhappy environment. Is this still the case?"

Charlie seemed appalled. "No. We're fine, the environment is fine…" He looked towards Ana who swallowed anxiously and avoided his glances.

"Ana?" the doctor questioned.

"What he said," she responded quietly. "It's better than it used to be."

"Are you still having a physical relationship?"

Ana crossed her arms uncomfortably. Charlie blinked. "You don't beat around the bush much, do you mate?"

"I'm just trying to help you both get a better perspective. You need to think whether this has been the right decision for you, whether it's the right decision for your daughter." He paused as he examined their confused, embarrassed faces. "To me, you both seem like two very unhappy people who made a mistake, and now because you can't undo what's been done, you still carry all this unhappiness around with you rather than addressing the problem, and you fall in to that same form of escapism again and again."

"We're _trying_ to address our problems," Ana argued. "What do you want us to do?"

"I can't tell you what to do, Ana. You know that," the doctor replied with a sympathetic smile. "I can only talk to you, and suggest things that might help. You don't have to do or agree with what I tell you, but I can try and get you to see things more clearly. For example, wouldn't you describe the sexual intimacy of your relationship as a means of dismissing what's up here?" He tapped the side of his head meaningfully. "Isn't it a way to vent your frustrations without actually having to talk about it, or address the problem directly? From what you've told me, it appears thatthis was the foundation of the relationship to begin with, and perhaps it's a means of escape that you're both unwilling to let go of?" He paused and studied their faces for a moment. "By your expressions I'm guessing you don't talk about this much with each other." They shook their heads. "So then it's a spontaneous thing," he surmised, leaning forwards. "Alright. Here's what I think you should do. Either here or at home, doesn't matter…you need to discuss your relationship. If you're happy with it, or unhappy, if this is the kind of relationship you intend to have…just communicate with each other."

The couple couldn't look each other in the eyes again until after the session, when they had left the building and the whole thing was beginning to turn in to a horribly embarrassing memory.

"Do you really talk about that kind of stuff with him?" Charlie finally asked as they walked, pushing Paige along in her buggy. Thankfully, she was still sound asleep.

Ana shrugged and pulled her coat around her to protect herself from the cold. "Yeah."

Charlie grimaced. "I kept getting the urge to tell him to mind his own business, and then I remembered that we're paying him to poke his bloody nose in. Better be worth it."

Ana cracked an ironic smile.

Desmond tapped his fingers nervously on the armrest of his chair, glancing over every so often at the woman who sat beside him, her blonde hair almost hiding her pale features. "Claire…do you need any water?"

"I'm fine," she smiled. "Honestly, I feel a lot better. I told you not to bring me here."

"You _fainted_, Claire. It's better to be sure. What if it's because of the accident last month?"

"I'm sure it's not."

"Let's just see what the doctor says," he suggested, placing his hand over hers.

"Right," Doctor Stanley interrupted as he entered the room to his office, offering a quick smile at the couple before returning his gaze to the papers in his hands. "I have the results from the tests back and from what we've discussed, it looks like we know what the problem is."

"She's alright, isn't she?" Des asked with concern. "It's not to do with the car accident, is it?"

Dr. Stanley sat down at his desk and looked across at them both with a reassuring smile. "There's nothing to worry about at all. Miss Littleton, you're in perfect health."

"So what's wrong with me?" she asked curiously.

He smiled at her as if to indicate good news; a warm sort of smile that was most likely meant to put his patients at ease. "You're pregnant," the doctor answered cheerfully. "Congratulations."

Claire's blue eyes widened. She seemed stunned. It couldn't be. Had she heard correctly? She glanced over at Des who had since let go of her hand and was now staring at the doctor with a startling look of disbelief.

"Excuse me?" he responded, his mouth hanging open and becoming very dry. He was suddenly the one who could do with a glass of water now.

"Miss Littleton is pregnant," repeated Dr. Stanley before glancing back down at his papers. "About a month pregnant to be more exact. The fainting was due to low blood sugar, it's a common symptom of early pregnancy…"

"But…are you sure?" Claire quizzed him, too shocked to realise the foolishness of second-guessing the opinion of a medical professional. "You're definitely sure?"

"We're sure," Dr. Stanley insisted, slightly bemused by the reaction. "Are you both alright?"

Claire and Desmond simultaneously turned to look at each other and came to realise they both had similar expressions of utter surprise and confusion. Desmond tried his best to force a pleasant smile. "Yes, it's just a bit of a shock."

"Very unexpected," Claire added, biting her lip.

"Well, there's plenty of advice I can give you on pregnancy and what to expect later on. We also have various different leaflets and booklets of information that you can take home with you…"

Claire could hardly hear him above her own tangled thoughts: _pregnant_ - the word repeated anxiously in her mind - _again_? Could she handle this? Another baby…Pregnant…A month pregnant.

One month ago, Claire had only just broken off a lustful affair with Charlie, a man whom she had secretly adored and been physically intimate with. One month ago, she had been so lost and distraught, she had found herself in the arms and bed of Desmond Hume after a flood of wild passion and impulse of desire. A feeling of nerves, fear and shame overcame her. What was she going to do?

* * *

"I, uh, don't quite believe it," Desmond announced quietly as they entered their home not long later. "Pregnant….I mean, how could this happen?" His voice was becoming more frantic now. "We've been so careful! How…why…" He paused and frowned with concern, a thought occurring to him. Perhaps this was the result of a previous relationship. "It is mine, isn't it?" he asked apprehensively. "Claire?"

Claire, on weak legs, managed to wobble her way over to the sofa where she collapsed dramatically on to the soft cushions. She opened her pink lips to speak, but managed to say no words. Instead, she could feel the uncomfortable feeling of choking towards the bottom of her throat and hot tears escape from her shining eyes.

"Claire," Des spoke softly, bending down in front of her and taking her hand. "It's okay." Part of him wanted to stand back up, to retreat and run away again. If there was any chance of this being Charlie Pace's baby, he wanted no part of it. But what sort of man would he be then? To abandon a woman he loved when she was most vulnerable? At a time when she needed him? He would be no better than Aaron's father, or Charlie himself. Desmond was determined not to be that person, to avoid being the coward. He had changed, and this baby was a sign of new beginnings: his new beginning with Claire. "I will always be here for you," he told her gently. "No matter what. Whatever happens. I'm not going anywhere."

She sniffed and her eyes focused on his, the sincerity in them causing her to smile. Desmond held her hands to his lips and kissed them before he seated himself next to her and pulled her in to a loving embrace.

"Everything is going to be fine," he promised.

* * *

There were many issues on Charlie's mind that afternoon. One of them was where on earth he was going to get a job. Another was avoiding the awkward conversation that Doctor Finley had suggested he and Ana have. But right at that moment, he'd appreciate a way to prevent people from recognising him in the street. There was a time where he would have enjoyed the interested gazes of the public, but considering what had been in the magazines recently, he knew these were not admiring glances.

"Thought I'd be old news by now," he murmured to Ana who still had her head up high, ignoring the persistent nudges and whispers around them.

"Never underestimate the general public," she told him. "You're nothing to them, they don't care how you feel. All they care about is the latest scandal."

"I'll need a disguise soon," he joked. "I'll be like one of those celebrities who go around with beanie hats and sunglasses."

"Aren't you a little old for that look?"

"I'm hurt. Honestly. I wanted to be one of those young, hip dads you see on telly."

"They're actors," she said, rolling her eyes. "Or they're idiots."

He laughed and they walked on, ignoring any other distracting comments or looks aimed in their direction. After a while, something took Charlie's eye and he paused a moment, taking hold of Ana's arm to stop her. She shook him off and he let go of her.

"Listen," he began, turning his head to look at her. "Could you take Paige back home? I'm just going to pick up some stuff and I'll see you back at the flat later." He could tell she was reluctant. "I promise I won't be long."

"Alright," she said after a long sigh, taking the pram and glancing at the serene-looking baby inside it.

"Brilliant! I won't be long."

She frowned and turned away, leaving Charlie alone. He span around and walked towards a music shop, a hopeful look on his face. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and hoped he would be able to at least ease his mind of one of the issues that were currently bothering him.

* * *

Claire was lying on her bed, her blue eyes staring up at the lamp shade hanging from the ceiling. On her tummy rested a hand circling along her skin; a large, warm, comforting hand. She placed her own small palm on top of it, ceasing the movements.

Desmond sat up beside her and watched her with curiosity. "Are you okay?"

She forced a reassuring smile, an element of fear and confusion in her eyes. She nodded.

"Claire," he breathed, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. "I want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I'm going to be right beside you. We can make this work."

"I've heard that before," she said abruptly, without thinking. She bit her lip.

"I promise. I care about you, I love you. I want whatever will make you happy."

Her eyes shone and she couldn't resist him at that point, gazing in to those lovely eyes of his. Stroking his stubbly cheek with her delicate fingers, she leant in and kissed him lovingly on the lips. She lingered there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his mouth against hers, and then leant back again to look at him. "I almost made the mistake of giving up my son. I don't want to do it again," she whispered. "I want to have this baby."

He smiled and held her close to him, running his fingers through her blonde strands of hair. He kissed her and then just held her in his arms for a while. Claire put her arm around him, gliding her hand across his strong back, her heart beating at the sensation of being pressed so close against him in such a comforting and reassuring embrace.

Whatever happened, she was determined to have this baby.

But nothing could overcome that awful feeling in the back of her mind: the child's father. Her thoughts made her wince, and she buried her face in to Desmond's chest again.

* * *

After much hesitance, Ana unbuckled the baby girl and lifted her from her pram. Miraculously, she managed to avoid making her cry and proceeded to place her on a pink mat beside the sofa. The infant sat obediently and looked up at her mother, blinking innocently.

"Don't look at me like that," Ana moaned, staring down at her.

Paige smiled at her and a string of slobber oozed down her chin.

"Ugh," Ana observed with disgust. Then she sighed, grabbed a tissue and knelt down in front of the baby. "Hold still," she said, successfully wiping away the drool before throwing the tissue to the side. Paige made a humorous squeaky noise before putting her fist in her mouth and chewing on it with her toothless gums. Ana watched her without being entirely sure why. She had only just noticed how Paige was already beginning to look like a little person, with her little round cheeks and tiny thin strands of brown hair and Ana could've sworn her eyes changed colour sometimes, just like she swore her father's did on occasion. Ana glanced at the clock, wondering where he was, and then realised it was almost time for the baby's injection again.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you?" Ana said to the gurgling thing, still watching her for no particular reason. "Be thankful for that." She paused and risked moving a little bit closer. "I still can't believe you exist…it was never supposed to happen this way." She sighed and watched her daughter with a recognisable look of sadness. "I'm not sure if it was ever supposed to happen at all. Not after the first time…I kind of told myself that was it…and your mom…" she bit the inside of her cheek and leant back against the arm of the sofa, "Your mom was very sad for a very long time." She wondered, when Paige was older, how they were going to explain to her the circumstances in which her parents met. It was a very unromantic story, and one that should never have happened: Mommy met Daddy after crashing on a scary island in the middle of nowhere, Mommy found Daddy incredibly irritating, Mommy and Daddy slept together after an unfortunate and overwhelming series of events that lead to the conception of a very complex and distressing situation.

And the rest, as they say, is history. To say the story was unconventional would be an understatement.

The baby continued to stare up at her, oblivious to her thoughts and to her words.

"We've already messed you up before you've even had a chance," she commented with what seemed like a look of guilt. The kid finally took her fist out of her mouth, her large baby eyes glued to her mother. Ana felt her breaths shorten, her eyes suddenly became hot with tears and her lips trembled. "I was never supposed to be here," she added, looking around with tearful eyes. "I'm not meant to be a mom." She wiped her eyes. "I mean, look at me, I can't do this. I don't know how to _do_ this. You'll just end up hating me like everybody else." She shifted her position slightly and watched Paige lift her little leg and suck her toes joyfully. In that moment, she tired hard to feel even the slightest bit of love for her, only to fail with genuine disappointment. She came to the conclusion that she must have forgotten what it felt like; to love someone, or to be in love. Maybe she had even forgotten how to try.

She sniffed and swiped at her eyes, realising again that she was a failure. "I'm sorry," she cried miserably to her daughter. "I'm so sorry." She forced herself to stroke the child's cheek and was surprised to find its smoothness so pleasant against her hand. The baby grabbed her fingers and locked them in her tiny palms. Ana's heart jumped and she held her breath, stunned at the sudden action. The little girl was holding on so tightly Ana thought she may have to pry those tiny fingers off, but those fears passed when the door opened and Paige released her willingly.

Ana, alarmed, scrubbed at her face furiously, eliminating all evidence of her emotional outburst. A man who looked vaguely like Charlie waltzed through the door, only he was wearing dark sunglasses and a black old fashioned-looking hat on his head. Ana concluded, as she got to her feet quickly, that this was in fact Charlie. Her misery turned to amusement and scorn.

"Planning a trip to the 50s?" she asked mockingly, hiding the pain on her face with a twisted smile.

Charlie's grin faded. "It's a fedora," he explained. "They're in style right now."

"And the shifty looking shades?"

"Part of my disguise."

"Of course."

"Well," he started, taking off his shades to reveal his blue eyes behind, "I thought I would need one if I wanted people to stop looking at me funny."

"I think that was the wrong way to go if you wanted people to _stop _looking at you funny."

He pulled an unamused face and his attention turned to baby Paige who was still sitting on her mat, innocently amused by her surroundings. "There she is!" he exclaimed, kneeling down to pick her up. "Did you and mummy have a nice time while I was gone, hmm?"

Ana sniffed. "Oh, we had a blast."

Paige closed her eyes and yawned, which also caused her father to yawn.

"Someone's tired," he said, tapping her nose. "I'll put her in her crib and when I come back, I have some news to tell you," he added with excitement, already heading towards the baby's room.

"Did you win a million dollars?" Ana questioned sarcastically. She heard fake laughter from the other room, and the fedora-wearing maniac re-appeared in front of her. "So what is this good news then? Did you figure out how to build that time machine?"

"Stop with the negativity! It's ruining my optimism."

"Optimism? Now I'm curious."

"Well, seeing as you're bursting with curiosity I may as well tell you," he said, eyebrow raised humorously. "I got another job! At the music shop. Doing odd jobs an' all."

"Oh," she said. "That's great." She turned and headed for the kitchen area, suddenly feeling the need to get a glass of water.

"Don't get too excited," he replied with sarcasm. "I thought you wanted me to get a job."

She refused to face him and took a swig from her glass. "What I wanted was to get _my_ job back," she added with bitterness in her voice.

He neared her, frowning. "I thought you'd be happy. We can pay for Paige's treatment, for your therapy…"

She shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure what the reason was for her sudden negativity; perhaps she simply was jealous and conscious of the fact she would be the stay-at-home mom once again. "I bet it doesn't pay much, does it?" She turned around then, her eyes cold.

Charlie shook his head with annoyance. "It didn't seem to bother you when I was working at the club for lousy pay."

"No, it only bothered me when you didn't come home because you were hooking up with women behind my back."

"Oh, this again?" he hissed. "It wasn't like that and you know it. Just leave it alone."

"It's pretty obvious you still love her," she mumbled, unable to stop. "I know you think about her, even when you're with me."

"Stop," he warned her.

"Stop living in the past," she retorted. "She's with Desmond now."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, afraid of what he might do with them if he lost his temper again. "I'm not going to do this right now. I'm going out so you can cool off."

"I'm not the one who needs cooling off," she told him as he headed for the door. "And drinking is not going to fix everything!" she yelled as the door slammed. Turning around, she brought her hand up to her face and pushed back her curls, a feeling of regret sweeping over her. It was so easy to bring that Aussie woman up when she wanted to hurt him. She would always be his weakness. But, she thought to herself as she collapsed in to the cushions of the sofa, what had the reason been this time? Why did she feel so bitter that she needed to make the people around her miserable too?

It was an automatic response; to bite back when she felt threatened. It was instinct. Sometimes she just lost control. She bit her lip and her gaze settled on the baby's room. She prayed that her daughter wouldn't wake up.

After half an hour of wallowing in self pity, Charlie had still not returned and Ana was beginning to get restless. So she did what she had been doing a lot recently: she called Desmond.

"Ana, hey," the Scot greeted her over the phone, his voice friendly and comforting. "How are you?"

"I'm concerned," she told him bluntly as she held the phone close to her ear so she could hear Desmond's voice through the crappy connection. "I pissed Charlie off and he stormed out. I think he went out drinking again."

"Do you need to talk?" he asked her sympathetically. "I have some time to spare…"

"No," she replied, grateful for his offer. "I was hoping you could find him for me and drag his sorry ass back here. The last thing I need is to take care of him _and_ the kid."

He paused for a second to think. "Uh, sure. I can do that. No problem."

"Thank you, Desmond."

"What are friends for?" he asked her cheerfully. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Sure thing," she said, and she was suddenly aware that she was smiling. "Bye."

* * *

_One more_, he thought. _One more and I'll go home. _

Charlie downed his drink with ease, wincing at its strength. But he didn't want to go home, so he ordered another.

"Can I buy that for you, handsome?" a young attractive American girl asked him, leaning over the bar as she edged towards him.

Charlie was sober enough to know when someone was flirting with him. "Uh, no. Thanks. It's fine."

"You sure? You look like you could use a good time." She battered her black eyelashes and tossed back her glossy brunette hair. "What are you, married?"

"No," Charlie scoffed, stifling his laughter. "I'm not married."

"Girlfriend?"

He sighed and looked back to his drink. "No, not exactly."

"Then what's the problem?" she questioned, a devilish smile appearing on her red lips.

He took hold of his glass and glanced at her silently, a lost and drunken look of cheerlessness in his polite half-smile. Two years ago he would have been delighted by the company of such an attractive young woman and he would have known exactly what to say in order to talk her back to his room, wherever that would have been located. But it was increasingly obvious to him now that that was a part of him he was determined to leave behind him, even though it involuntarily emerged in him now and again when he was provoked in to feeling a great deal of passion. She returned his gaze patiently, her thin eyebrows raised deviously.

"There you are," a familiar voice said behind him. Desmond placed a hand on his shoulder and Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Oh," the girl said suddenly with realisation. She blushed slightly. "I see. My mistake." It took Charlie a moment to figure out what all that was about, then he shook his head vigorously, eyes widening.

"Oh, we're not…No, you've got it wrong!" But by this time she was already walking away. He slumped over the bar again, drink in hand. "Thanks, _mate._"

Desmond didn't waste time by questioning it. "You should get home. Your girl's worried about you," he told him, leaning over the bar to see his face.

"She's not my girl," Charlie replied bitterly. "And I doubt it."

"I thought you were done with coming here?" Desmond quizzed him.

"Why are you following me?" he demanded, changing the subject.

"I didn't follow you. Ana said you'd probably be here."

His lip curled. "I needed to be alone for a bit," he admitted before swallowing the contents of his glass.

"Trust me. I've been there."

"Just leave me alone, will you?" Charlie began to slur, hiding his pale features from view. Desmond sighed impatiently.

"You're going through a hard time and I understand that. I also understand that you still have feelings for Claire, but I am not your enemy, Charlie. You need to get that. I'm sorry things didn't work out for you, but you need to go home, alright? To your daughter; she needs you."

Charlie laughed bitterly under his breath. "What would you know about it anyway?"

"What do I know?" Des repeated defensively. "I have responsibilities too; looking after Aaron, looking after Claire! You're not the only one who has a family to support."

Charlie put down his drink, his forehead creasing with anger. "I ought to punch you in the face."

"Why?" the other man almost spoke over him. "You gave them up as your responsibility a long time ago. They're nothing to do with you anymore!"

Charlie felt his fingers tremble with fury and his teeth clenched together tightly. He grabbed Desmond and shoved him against the wall. He had no idea. No idea at all. Claire and Aaron meant everything to him and they always would. They were _everything_ to him. And this man had destroyed it all.

Desmond struggled but Charlie could be abnormally strong when he was angry. "What now, eh? Do you want to hit me?" he snapped, grimacing.

Charlie tried to suppress the urge. They were receiving funny looks now and the American girl from earlier had one trimmed eyebrow raised. What would this achieve? He loosened his hold slightly and Desmond caught his breath, but Charlie felt something in his shirt pocked that provoked some curiosity. Despite Desmond's brief protests, Charlie fished the object out of his pocked to reveal a small box. Stunned, he opened it to reveal a gleaming ring.

It was an engagement ring.

Charlie's eyes darted from the piece of jewellery to Desmond's nervous expression. "What is this?"

"It's not what it looks like," Des insisted.

"It looks like you've got a bloody engagement ring," Charlie spluttered. "Are you insane?"

"Look, it's nothing." Desmond held his hand out for Charlie to return it. "Give it back."

Charlie snatched it away from reach. Des was starting to feel like a child at school, being confronted by a bully who refused to return what he had stolen. Charlie gripped the box in his warm hands.

"Is this for Claire?" Charlie questioned him, a look of horror in his eyes.

"It doesn't concern you," Desmond argued.

"It is, isn't it? Just come out with it."

"Don't be like this, Charlie. Give me the bloody ring back now."

"Tell me!"

"It's nothing!" Desmond yelled.

"You liar!" Charlie shouted. He wished he didn't care. He wished he could pat Des on the back, tell him Congratulations, maybe even be happy for him. But he was drunk and angry, and extremely hurt. He couldn't control himself, and he launched at him with a sudden fuelled anger. He hit him hard in the face, causing Desmond to fall back and throw a hand up to his injury.

Charlie stood for a moment in shock, breathing heavily. Heads turned, eyes rolled. _What a pathetic drunk._ But none of them understood. This man was going to marry the girl he loved. He was going to invade his dream of being hers; this fantasy, this hope that they had a future together. He would be Claire's husband, her hero; hers. And she would be his. All his.

Charlie wanted more than anything to have those things; to _be _those things, so he had lashed out with anger and jealousy, conscious of the fact that his dreams were suddenly over. He slowly moved closer towards the other man who was clutching his face in agony. Frowning and even beginning to look a little guilty, Charlie parted his lips to ask him if he was okay when Desmond suddenly sprang towards him, a scrunched up fist colliding with his cheek bone painfully. He stumbled backwards, holding his face in anguish. Desmond hit him again on the other side and Charlie cried out, dropping the box to the floor. Very swiftly, Des picked up the ring, gave Charlie the sharpest glare he could manage, and walked out without another word.

And Charlie, wiping blood from his bruised nose, was kicked out.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Ana-Lucia couldn't sleep. Her heart was racing as fast as her thoughts were; every time her eyes would close, the race would start again, and again, and again. _Boom. Boom. Boom._ She was the only person she knew who could be kept awake just by the sound of her own heartbeat.

She turned over and watched the man beside her. Charlie looked peaceful enough despite his bruised face and cut lip. Of course he had been so stupid as to start a fight with Desmond. Their feud would never end, and when she demanded what the hell had happened to his face, he almost seemed happy with himself.

What Ana wasn't aware of was that Charlie wasn't happy at all; he couldn't stop analysing the situation in his head. Desmond was going to marry Claire, she and him were finished and he had to accept that it was all over. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, making sure to stick to his side. He didn't want anymore arguments. He was done thinking. He almost felt his consciousness fading when he felt a hand touch his knee and glide gently upwards. Confusion filled his sleep deprived mind at first, but then he realised, as he felt his heart beat faster and sensed the soft hands caress his chest, Ana didn't want to sleep on her side tonight.

He felt smooth legs either side of him, a body above him and slim fingers fumble around his waist. His eyes slowly opened, watching the ceiling as soft hair tickled his chest, and when the pleasant feeling was gone, he saw Ana's face above him, her eyes gleaming. Something wasn't right.

"Are you crying?"

"Shut up," she muttered, tossing her curls back to stop the strands sticking to her damp face.

"Look at me." He raised a hand to her face to inspect it when she slapped it away.

"Please, Charlie. Don't say anything."

She was upset, he could see that. And this was her way of ignoring it, of distracting herself. He hadn't had enough alcohol to let himself take advantage of her, and despite his own pain and aching for relief, he was reminded of their session earlier, warning them of just this sort of 'escapism' they had so inclined themselves to using.

Her warm hands were on his chest when he grabbed her wrists, causing her to lean towards his face. Her jaw stiffened; she didn't want to kiss him. She wanted to be the one in control. She gave him a chastising look and tried to tear away from his grip. He looked at her. She realised, to her disappointment, that his eyes shone blue and were filled with friendly concern.

"Ana, stop this. We should talk about this like the doctor advised us to."

He felt her body tense up with frustrated anger. "There's nothing to talk about. What's changed?"

"Look at yourself," he said gently. "This isn't what you want."

"Like hell you know what I want," she spat, ripping her arm away from him. "Come on, it's not a big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal. I mean for God's sake, thinking like that is what started all of this. Just one night of weakness and that's it. But we both know it's not as simple as that."

"Are you going to stop talking now?"

"No. I'm not."

Her lip curled and she pulled away from him, sliding back beside him. "Damn it, Charlie." And a tear fell from her eye. "Fine, is this what you wanted?"

"I'm sorry," he told her genuinely, reaching for her shoulder. She shook him off.

"Don't touch me!" She barked and grabbed a robe to drape around her glistening skin as she stormed out. Charlie followed her out the bedroom door.

"Just talk to me," he said.

"I don't want to talk." She glared at him coldly. As far as she was concerned, Charlie wasn't trying to help her. He was just trying to change things. He was relinquishing her control, and once again she felt powerless; untouched, unloved.

"Look, I don't want to take advantage of you when you're upset…"

She scoffed. "I'm not some helpless little maiden that needs protecting! I can take care of myself."

"I know." He walked closer. "But maybe the doctor's right. Maybe this isn't the right way for us to have a relationship."

"I don't care," she snapped.

"He knows what's best for you."

"No, he doesn't," she mumbled, wiping another tear from her face. "_I_ know what's best for me. People listen, but they can never understand, and they can't help me."

"You might feel that way but it's not true." He was close to her now, close enough to reach out and touch her.

"Don't patronise me! Who are you to counsel me anyway? You're the one drinking all night, getting in bar fights and pining over an unavailable woman who looks like she belongs on the top of a Christmas tree or something!"

He frowned at the comment but he didn't back away.

"So why don't you get mad?" she breathed. "Right now. Why don't you get absolutely furious? Lash out at me. Do it."

His expression was solemn. "We spend too much time being angry. Whenever we're together, it's because one of us - or both of us - is hurt and angry. Does that sound right to you?"

"It works," she commented, taking in a sharp breath of air.

He shook his head. "It doesn't, love."

"It doesn't matter to me," she added, her lip trembling. "_I don't care_."

"I think that's the problem. You're worth more than this."

She swiped at her face, her hand shaking. "Am I?" She sniffed and looked at him.

He nodded at her, suddenly feeling incredibly sympathetic. She was a complete mess and he felt deeply saddened that she cared so little for herself, that she had so little respect for herself.

"I just want it to stop," she said under her breath after a few moments.

"I know." He risked putting a hand on her arm and he squeezed it supportively. "It's okay."

She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples, trying to overcome her embarrassment. "I don't know what's happening to me. I just…I don't know what to do."

"Just take it one step at a time. You'll get there."

"Where exactly is there?" she muttered. "Happiness?" She scorned at the idea.

Charlie examined her, saw a look in her eye that made him frown. "You don't think you deserve to be happy?"

"I deserve a lot of things and happiness ain't one of them." She replied sullenly, avoiding his gaze.

"Maybe you've made some mistakes but…you deserve to be happy just as much as the next person."

A twisted smile formed on her lips. "You should stop saying nice things to me. Anyone would think that you actually like me."

"I do like you…sometimes.." He smiled at her. "I do now anyway. And I know you're supposed to initially like the person you reproduce with but I think we've already established we're a pretty unconventional couple."

She half-smiled at him. "Well, I guess you aren't so bad either. When you aren't being a pain in the ass."

"Good."

She breathed in deeply. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot."

"I was idiotic enough to get pregnant in the first place," she sighed, watching him from the corner of her eyes.

"Well, in that case we're both pretty idiotic. But it's not the end of the world." He smiled and then broke his gaze to head past her in to the kitchen. "Since we both can't sleep, I'll make us some tea or something."

"Like that'll fix everything," she sighed.

"You'd be surprised," he commented, putting the kettle on. Ana wrapped her arms around her and wandered back in to the bedroom. When she was gone, Charlie relaxed a little more. Now if only he could have been that mature a year ago; he could have saved everyone a lot of grief.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Claire announced as she appeared at the door of her bedroom in her fluffy bath robe. "This is the fourth time I've needed to pee in the last hour."

Desmond lowered his book and looked up at her from the bed, laughing. "Well, you are pregnant."

"Don't remind me," she muttered humorously, rubbing her tummy as she headed over to the bed, flopping down on the mattress. "I only just got back my figure from the last one."

"What are you talking about?" Des asked her. "Your figure is fine. Better than fine, in fact. You're gorgeous."

It was things like that which made Claire want Desmond in the first place. He was so kind and generous, even when he didn't mean what he was saying.

"That's very sweet but soon I'll just be the fat pregnant girl again - the walking time bomb of responsibility." She sighed and pouted, staring down at her temporarily flat stomach. Desmond leant over her and stroked her hair.

"You'll always be beautiful, even with a great big pregnant belly."

She blushed. "I don't deserve you, you know."

"Nonsense, Claire. Now you need your rest. Try and get some sleep, okay?"

She smiled and got under the covers with him, the warmth of his body soothing her. She closed her eyes and adjusted her head on the pillow, waiting to fall in to unconsciousness.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

Her eyes snapped open.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

She placed a hand over her chest, feeling her heart race wildly. It was as if she had just ran a mile. Every time she closed her eyes, she could only feel her pulse booming, keeping her awake. Her mouth ran dry. She felt as though she could get up and run a marathon and her body still wouldn't be tired. She sighed and chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

She wasn't sure how long she had been trying to drop off when she couldn't take it anymore. She sat up and wiped her eyes. Desmond sensed her and turned over, leaning up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I can't sleep," she said quietly with frustration.

He rubbed her arm with concern. "What's on your mind?"

This only made her heart beat faster; she could never tell this man what was on her mind, he would hate her for it. _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. _Like explosions in her chest. It wouldn't stop.

"I just don't feel well."

_Boom. Boom._

"Well, I'll stay up with you if you want. I wasn't very tired to be honest. Is there something you want to talk about?"

_Boom. Boom._

"Talk about?"

"Yeah, maybe I can help you drift off to sleep."

She couldn't sleep now. She didn't want to talk. She fell back on to her pillow and frowned, Desmond leaning over her.

"Claire?"

"I'm fine," she told him, forcing her sweetest smile. "Thanks." She sat up slightly to kiss him, finding herself drawn to his lips, and she unintentionally found that the kiss had deepened. Des laid her back down gently and kissed her in return with sudden passion. She held his face in her hands and pulled him closer to her before wrapping her arms around him completely. _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. _Her heart still pounded as she found that their bodies were entwined together in a close embrace. At that point, she stopped herself and paused for breath, shaking her head. "Des…I…I'm scared."

His eyes were confused and sympathetic as they looked down at her and he touched her face delicately. "Why? What of?"

"Of having another baby," she told him with wide and fearful eyes. "Everything's going to change so fast and I…I'm not ready."

"I thought you said you wanted this baby."

"I do. I'm just not sure if _this _is how I want it."

"What do you mean? Do you mean here? In the house?"

"It's not just the house," she frowned. "It's everything. We haven't been together long and I just…I'm not sure if this is the right thing for us…"

Desmond pulled himself up a bit then, leaving Claire to stare up at him anxiously. "What are you suggesting, Claire?"

"I wasn't…I'm not suggesting anything," she stuttered. "It's just…we're in a very complicated situation and I'm just worried, that's all."

He pulled away from her completely then, sitting back down beside her. "I didn't think our situation was that complicated anymore, Claire. I thought we had figured this out. It's just you and me now. You, me, and the baby." He paused. "Well… _babies_."

She was biting her lip again; a habit that Desmond had picked up on quite quickly.

"This is about Charlie, isn't it?" He asked, pushing back his brunette hair. "It always is. You still have feelings for him."

"No," she insisted. "It's…it's over between me and him. He has his own family."

"It didn't stop you before," he mumbled. "You love the man, Claire. He'll always be your first choice."

"It's not like that!" she cried, grabbing his shoulder. He shook her off gently and stepped out of bed. "Desmond!"

"Just tell me something," he turned to her seriously. "It's not his baby, is it?"

She shook her head, lips trembling. "I don't know," she answered quietly. "I…Please come back to bed."

"Not until you can tell me honestly that this is what you want. You and me, the kids; a family."

"Please, Desmond. This is all too much!" she pleaded. "Let's talk about it in the morning."

His teeth locked together in agitation. After a moment, he nodded. "I'll see you in the morning then," he muttered before leaving the room. She buried her head in to her pillow and let out a muffled and hopeless groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt Desmond, but the things he would find out that following morning would quite possibly make her lose him forever.

A small cry emerged from her lips as she once again was kept awake by that infuriating feeling in her chest: _Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. _She wasn't looking forward to the morning.

* * *

"I know what doctor Finley would say," Ana said, staring at her tea with a frown as she sat up on the sofa.

"And what would that be?" Charlie asked, raising his cup to his lips from the armchair opposite.

"What he's said plenty of times before ," she sighed, looking down. "That it's an issue of control." Leaning forwards, she glanced at his expression, knowing that he was waiting for an elaboration on her comment. "When I was shot.." she explained, "and when I was pregnant…I lost control of my body. And I guess I took that kind of hard."

"And this is a way of gaining back control?"

She nodded slowly. "It's hard for me to accept defeat, and I don't like knowing I don't have control over things. And I _don't_ like people knowing about it." she stressed the last part, raising her eyes to meet his.

"I understand," Charlie replied, putting down his cup on the coffee table. "Really, I do. You're talking to an ex-drug addict here, I know a few things about not being in control." He paused, noticing he actually had her attention. "It wasn't something I liked to talk about either. I was ashamed; I didn't want people knowing that part of me. And back when that was my life, I used the same means of gaining control as you did. It was just a way to feel better. Well…you know that already. Otherwise we wouldn't be here, would we?" He smiled ironically and was surprised to find the same smile on her features.

"Well, crap." She almost buried her head in her hands, that twisted smile on her face. "I guess that means we have something in common."

He laughed. "You mean apart from the banoffee pie?"

"I told you I hated that stuff."

"Ah, it'll grow on you again."

"Whatever."

* * *

Claire tossed and turned for hours, rubbing at the bags forming underneath her eyes and trying to slow the pace of her heartbeat. Her body ached; it was impossible to get comfortable. Her mattress felt so lumpy and she had to keep turning over her pillow because it didn't feel right. She couldn't figure out which side to sleep on, feeling so cold and lonely without someone next to her, comforting her.

Desmond was lying on his back in the next room, his eyes examining the small cracks in the ceiling above him. His heart was breaking and nobody understood, nobody seemed to care. Not even the woman he loved. He turned on his side and grabbed the small box from the nightstand, opening it up to reveal the gorgeous glittering ring inside. He stared at it sadly and sighed. It was just never meant to be.

Early that morning, Claire wrapped herself up in her dressing gown and tip-toed out of her bedroom. Her intention was to grab a sneaky glass of water and return to her room, but Desmond must have heard because soon enough he was right behind her, frowning seriously.

"Desmond," she almost gasped, and then couldn't find the words to continue.

Desmond wet his lips and scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

"Now?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry about earlier," he apologised, looking at her quite guiltily.

Claire nodded. "It's fine, it's just…I'm confused right now."

"You need time. I understand that. I just need to know the truth," he touched her shoulders and she shivered, unable to look in to those mesmerising eyes.

"Des…" Her breath was shaky. "My feelings for Charlie… I care about him but I care about you too. And we're together now, and I'm having another baby. He's in the past. You're my present. You, me and the kids will be a family."

He smiled in a somewhat pouty way and he glanced down to his feet. For a long while, there was an agonising silence until he met her eyes again, the familiar pleasantness in them suddenly gone. "Do you love me, Claire?"

Her brows knitted together and she panicked, unable to respond. All that came out was a useless rambling and stuttering.

"I don't think you could ever love me like you love him," he said quietly, letting go of her. "And I don't think you want to raise a family with me either."

"I never said that," she argued, shaking her head.

"But it's true. You're with me because you can't be with him."

"That's not fair, Des. If Penny were here, do you think you'd be with me?"

Desmond found that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, his mouth running dry at the sound of Penny's name. "I loved Penny," he said quietly. "But it wasn't meant to be. I want to be with you."

"You _are _with me!"

"No, I'm not. You know I'm not - not really."

She folded her arms, beginning to feel the passion inside her well up in to anger. "What happened to caring about me? To being by my side no matter what happened? What happened to wanting what will make me happy?"

He looked up at her then. "Exactly. I want you to be happy, Claire. And this isn't it. You're not happy with me."

"You have no idea what would make me happy!" she snapped.

"Yes, I do. _He'd_ make you happy."

"Charlie? He can't. I may have given in to my feelings for him before, but I've told him it's over for good now. There's no future for us."

"And do you see a future for _us_?" he asked her, his eyes gleaming with emotion, already knowing the answer.

She paused. She couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she never could. All she could see was the present; right here and right now. She had always seen her future with Charlie. Even when Ana's pregnancy had destroyed that serene image, the idea still remained in her mind. She blinked and cleared her throat. "Let me ask YOU something, Desmond. If this is Charlie's baby, would you really decide to stick around?"

"You're avoiding my question -"

"You're avoiding mine."

He hesitated to answer, disliking the thoughts that were running through his mind. He broke his gaze and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "I don't know," he finally admitted, sadness painted across his face. "I…I'm not sure." He noticed sadness in her eyes too, a deep sadness, and possibly a flicker of panic which made him suspicious.

"Claire…"

Her eyes welled up and tears slid down the sides of her face. He reached out to her but she broke away from him and turned towards the sofa, dropping down on to the cushions. "I'm sorry," she sniffed miserably. "I think I've made a terrible mistake."

Desmond moved slowly towards Claire and lowered himself next to her, waiting patiently for her to continue. "What is it?"

"I should have told you earlier," she admitted, wiping at her pink cheeks. "I'm just so confused right now, I don't know what to do. I'm so scared." She looked in to his eyes, wide and afraid. She tried to open her mouth, her dry lips parting, but she couldn't bring herself to speak up. Her pink eyes swelled with tears and her heart was booming even more intensely than the previous night. She felt sick with fear for his reaction, but she knew after all he had done for her he deserved to know the truth. "The baby…" she whispered hoarsely, trying to stop her breath from wavering, her eyes locked with Desmond's concerned gaze as she attempted to say aloud the next couple of words that had been clattering around in her mind for the past few weeks. "It's Charlie's."

Desmond swallowed back the hurt, the anger, the resentment; the utter shock at this sudden revelation. He shook his head, seeing his hopes of having a family with Claire vanish further and further in to the distance. "How can you know?" He said after finding his voice. "How…how can you be sure?"

"I just know," she sniffed. "Charlie is the father."

"How can you say that?" he demanded. "You're a month pregnant, and for all that time you've been with me. How can you be sure that Charlie is the father?"

"I've had a suspicion for a while," she admitted guiltily, looking down at her lap, her blonde hair falling over her face.

"But…when we went to see the doctor…you were just as shocked as I was."

"I wasn't sure at first," she told him, looking at him again with saddened eyes. "When I first got pregnant with Aaron, I had this funny feeling. I just felt different and I could feel that something wasn't quite right…and I've been experiencing that feeling again. I've had it for a while…and it was before…_us_. When the doctor said I was pregnant, I _was_ shocked. I still am. But now I know - I'm certain - this baby's father is Charlie."

He shook his head, stepping away and running moist hands through his hair. "I can't believe it."

"So are you just going to run away again, Desmond?" she asked him, standing up and swallowing back the lump in her throat. "It's your choice. It's always been your choice."

"Claire…"

"Desmond?"

"What about Charlie?"

"I'm not going to chase some fantasy, Des. He's hurt me too many times and…me and him…we're better apart."

He tilted his head. "You don't believe that."

"I care about you. I want to give us a try."

"You're trying to move on from him and you can't!" he exclaimed, his eyes glittering in the morning light. "Face it, Claire. You still have feelings for him."

She shook her head vigorously. "No!"

"Tell me the truth: is it really over with him? Is it ever really over between you two?" he demanded, chewing his tongue.

"Of course it is!"

"Just tell me the truth, Claire."

"I am!"

He stared at her, wanting to believe her. He tried to read her; her eyes, her stance. But she had lied to him so often, it was getting hard to tell whether he could trust what she was saying or not. After a long pause of silence, Desmond cleared his throat and nodded solemnly. "Fine. Alright." Claire was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he began to continue: "If you won't tell me the truth, I'll find someone who will."

"Desmond!" she cried as she helplessly watched him grab his coat and storm out the front door. She didn't know what he had meant by that, and she could feel her pulse thudding in her veins. The door slammed, leaving her miserably by herself, her pink lips trembling. She had lost him and quite possibly ruined one of the best things that could have happened to her.

It was good to be with a man who made you smile, she thought.

* * *

"Right," Charlie began as he finished inspecting the bruise around his cheekbone - thankfully, it wasn't that bad. "I'll take Paige to the doctor's now."

"Have fun," Ana said from the sofa, barely looking up.

"Sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm sick of doctors," she replied, shrugging.

"Alright." After a few moments of nervously fumbling around with his coat, he managed to put it on and then collect a sleepy Paige from her cot. "Will you be okay here by yourself?" he asked Ana-Lucia as he strapped the baby in to her pushchair.

"I'll be just fine. I can take care of myself, remember?" She glanced at him from the side of her gaze.

"Good, well, we'll be off then. See you later." He half-smiled as he stood in the centre of the room, unsure of what he was waiting for. Ana waved half-heartedly from where she was sitting and then let out a deep sigh when she finally heard the door shut.

She still felt humiliated from last night. She was occupied by a horrible thought that she was as desperate and pathetic as she was a year ago when she first came across him. Sometimes it was just a relief to be with someone who was just as desperate and pathetic as she was, that's why it had happened in the first place.

She knew what Doctor Finley and Charlie had told her was probably right, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe Charlie was on to something - maybe that was the problem: that she simply didn't care enough. As long as she got what she wanted, manipulated whoever it was she needed to get it from…that was how it worked. And she was fully aware that she had equally been used and manipulated, but again - she didn't care.

Maybe her hormones were still flying around everywhere, or maybe it was just how the depression made her feel. Either way, she couldn't switch it off just like that.

There was a knock at the door and she stood up, wrapping her bath robe around her. She was surprised to see Desmond Hume at her door, looking rather flustered and upset. She breathed in deeply. "What are you doing here?"

Desmond looked back at her with a deep unsettled frown. "I had a bit of a falling out with Claire," he admitted, misery glazed in his eyes. "Can I come in?"

Her brows furrowed as she considered this, but she knew she wasn't going to deny him when he was in this state. He had been there for her when she was distraught, now she had to be there for him. As a friend. She opened the door wider and allowed him to pass through, which he did after a moment of hesitance. Before closing the door and turning around again, she couldn't help letting out a sigh. It seemed she was destined to be the person men came to when they had fallen out with Claire Littleton. Ana would try to pick up the pieces, it was all she was good for after all - trying to clean up messes.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

"Charlie…it's Claire. When you get this message please call me back. I need to talk to you. It's urgent. It's about you and me and…well, it's important. Just ring me when you get the chance and we'll meet up. Please."

* * *

Desmond sat awkwardly on the sofa, wringing his hands somewhat nervously. He watched Ana as she stood in front of him, her arms crossed and her eyes staring back at him with confusion. "So…" he began, offering a polite smile. "Where's Charlie?"

"He's taken Paige to her check-up at the doctor's," she answered bluntly.

"Oh…How is she doing lately?"

"Fine. Thanks."

"And how are _you _doing?" he asked with concern.

Ana wiped her face with her hand and sat beside him. "I thought you were here because _you _had a problem?"

Desmond looked down at his hands and fidgeted nervously, a frown appearing on his face. "I just needed some space," he admitted sadly.

"From Claire?"

"From all of it," he sighed. "I seem to be in the middle of something here and it's getting much too overwhelming…"

Ana found herself feeling sympathetic for him. Lately she had formed a special bond with Desmond and she wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was because they were in very similar positions when it came to Charlie and Claire. They appeared to have a mutual understanding about it all.

"I just needed some time away," Des added, forcing a polite smile. "Sorry if I'm inconveniencing you."

"It's fine," she replied. "I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel like that too."

His smile trembled. "I need to ask you something," he said after a long pause. "Something's….come up with Claire…and it concerns Charlie."

She repositioned herself on the sofa curiously.

"I need to know if they're still seeing each other. Are they still having an affair?"

There was a brief pause as Ana processed the question. She suddenly felt the anger and fear she had experienced over the past few months return to her. Desmond waited for her answer patiently, perhaps too anxious to hear the answer.

"She was here yesterday," Ana responded bitterly. "With Aaron. Charlie said she had brought him over to play with Paige…I don't know if that was the first time though."

Desmond frowned and nodded miserably. "I should have known really. She's been in love with him ever since that bloody island. All the time I took care of her I tried to take her mind off him. And she's lied to me so many times."

"I know how you feel," Ana muttered. "Do you want a drink? A strong one?"

Desmond hesitated for a brief moment. Then he looked up and smiled. "Yes. Please."

It took three drinks for Ana-Lucia to finally ask him where the sudden suspicions had come from. Des put down his glass and exhaled, his mind already too numbed to worry about keeping the issue private. Ana had a right to know anyway - it concerned the father of her child. She almost dropped her glass when he told her.

"How…far along is she?"

"About a month."

Ana breathed a short sigh, looking down at her lap.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know." She poured herself another drink and downed it quickly before staring lazily in to space, her blurred thoughts flying round her mind. There was another beat of silence before she spoke again. "What does this mean? What's going to happen now?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I don't know what Claire's plans are. All I know is she wants to have the baby."

"And what about _him_?" she asked. "Is he going back to her?"

Desmond took her hand. She didn't shake him off. "I'm sure Charlie won't abandon you and Paige."

"Why not? He can go have a real family now, just like he's always wanted."

"You are his real family."

She scoffed. "We were his prison sentence. He hates it here! Why else would he seek comfort in Little Miss Perfect?"

"Because he loves her," he sighed miserably. "And she loves him back."

A brief pause of silence overcame them. Ana-Lucia frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I forgot you loved her too."

"I thought I did," Desmond told her. "I thought…we could be happy together. But love is complicated, isn't it? I've only really been sure of it once in my life - a long time ago - and it wasn't to be…"

"Penny?" Ana asked cautiously. Desmond nodded. The sudden honesty encouraged Ana to form a response involving something she had never really told anyone before. "I've never been in love," she told him quite simply before dropping her eyes to the ground.

"Never?" Desmond asked her, facing her and leaning closer. She shook her head.

"Never met the right guy," she admitted, although she was sure that wasn't the entire truth.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's overrated anyway. Who needs love?" she questioned with a shrug. "Right now I could settle for a decent guy who understands me…"

"Well, I understand you," Desmond smiled empathetically at her. "I enjoy talking to you."

"At least that's someone who likes talking to me," she mumbled.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said, slightly drunk. "You're a very interesting woman."

"A compliment?" she smirked, raising her glass to her lips. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course. You're a strong, independent woman, Ana," he told her honestly, searching her eyes with his gaze. "And…you're honest and you're intelligent and…very attractive. Any man would be lucky to have you…"

She froze for a moment. "Oh," she replied in a stunned and quiet voice, putting her glass back down, overwhelmed and unsure of what to say. She opened her mouth to attempt a response when before she could react, she felt Desmond's lips on hers. An amazing energy flowed through her. She felt her temperature rise and suddenly found herself kissing him back, allowing him to push her down on the sofa gently, their hearts pulsing. When her head hit the cushions, she broke away for a moment and breathed deeply, staring up at him as she remembered her previous conversation with Charlie. That brief moment seemed to knock some sense in to Desmond and he looked down at her, shocked with himself.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

Ana watched him, her lips parted and her chest heaving, hearing Charlie's words in her head. She stopped. Who cared what he thought? He wasn't always right, he wasn't always a good moral human being. He had faults and weaknesses just like her. It wasn't a big deal. She didn't care, so she grabbed Desmond and pulled him down again, opening her mouth on his. This time he didn't hesitate. He didn't reject her. She unbuttoned his shirt to reveal tanned muscles and revelled in his touch when he ran his hand along her smooth back or pressed his cool lips to her neck.

They were probably only doing this because they were bitter, she thought. They were probably only doing it because of Claire…because of Charlie. But still, she didn't care.

* * *

The air was crisp as Charlie left the doctor's that afternoon, holding Paige at his waist. The check-up had gone well - Paige was looking healthy, she was getting regular injections, they had worked out a suitable diet for her when she was ready to move on to solids and everything seemed to be going okay so far in her treatment. Charlie was still apprehensive about taking care of a child with diabetes. He had been scared to death of messing up her life regardless of the illness, now he had even more to worry about when it came to her welfare.

As the cold air hit his face, he shivered and knelt down to place the baby in her pram. She waved her arms around stiffly in her puffy pink coat whilst Charlie pulled on her winter hat and attempted to put her hands in to her baby gloves.

"There you are, love," he smiled at her as he finally got the last of her miniature fingers in her glove. "Don't want you to get chilly." He knelt there and looked at her for a moment, watching her toothless grin and her eyes that now seemed to be a nice deep blue when suddenly he was overwhelmed by an unexpected wave of pride.

This was his daughter, not even half a year old and she was so beautiful and strong and sweet. She was battling with so much and she didn't even know it. She was going to grow in to an amazing young girl and he couldn't wait to see what kind of person she would become. He swore to himself then that he wouldn't screw up being a good dad - he wouldn't destroy her chances at a good life. He would offer her love and support and stability. He would help with homework, lend her money, drive her to the shops on weekends…He would be the best bloody dad ever.

He heard his mobile phone ring and he dug in to his pocket to retrieve it. One missed call. Perhaps it was Ana asking him to pick something up? Then he saw the name. His heart jumped and he played the message curiously. _Claire. _He rang her back instantly and arranged to meet up somewhere familiar. His heart couldn't wait to be with her again whereas his mind was confused. Why did she need to talk to him? Was she okay? Had she had second thoughts about not seeing each other anymore? He breathed in the cool air before reaching for the pram and heading towards their meeting place. Whatever it was, he had to see her too. He needed to know what was going on.

They met at the roadside where they had that accident over a month earlier. Charlie could still see the shopping sprawled out on the floor in his head, Claire's limp body someway in front of him. He was reminded of her heroism and her love towards him. She had been willing to risk her life for him. Now they hardly even talked, not even over the internet. He wished there could be more days like the previous day; Claire and Aaron spending time with him and Paige, chatting and laughing. But that didn't seem to be the case.

When he saw her his heart stopped. She was dressed in her fluffy hat and scarf again and so he couldn't help smiling at the sight of her. He never wanted to stop looking at her. He wheeled the pram towards her and greeted her awkwardly.

She smiled a nervous smile. "Hi, Charlie." Her features formed in to confusion. "What happened to your face?"

His hand instinctively touched the bruise on his cheek and he tensed up with embarrassment. "Oh, it's nothing. Just me being an idiot." He paused to look at her and relaxed more when he took her in properly.

She was lost in his gaze a moment before she realised neither of them had spoken for a while. "I..I would have invited you round to the house but I wasn't sure when Des would be back….Aaron's at a neighbour's."

He nodded with understanding. "So what's the important news you have to tell me? Are you alright?" He watched her intently and this must have made Claire nervous because she immediately broke his gaze and hesitated to explain.

How could she tell him? There was no predicting how he would react. She contemplated whether it would have been better to avoid telling him altogether, to just accept that fact he had his own family to support and he didn't need another one to complicate matters further. But she had no idea what to do, who to turn to. And Charlie had a right to know, didn't he?

Her pink lips parted and finally her blue eyes came in to contact with his. She had to say it. It wouldn't feel real until he knew the truth. "Charlie," she said quietly, her heart beating in her stomach. "I'm pregnant." His jaw dropped and the world seemed to spin. Claire came closer to him. "You're the father," she explained, before he jumped to conclusions. "I'm…I'm sorry to tell you like this."

She thought he might be upset, or even angry. But she wasn't expecting the biggest smile to emerge on his expression and she certainly didn't expect him to pick her up and spin her around excitedly. "I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "This is amazing! You and me? We're having a baby? Claire…I couldn't be happier!"

She squealed in his grip and gasped for air when he finally put her down. Still, she couldn't help smiling. "Charlie," she began, knowing she would have to ruin the mood now. "Aren't you forgetting something? What about Ana? What about Paige? And Desmond?"

His smile dropped and the familiar sadness gleamed in his eyes. "Desmond!" he scoffed, and that was all he would say.

"I'm definitely going to have this baby, Charlie. But I only want you to be involved if you want to be."

"Of course I want to be!" he responded, beginning to feel the reality of the situation catch up to him. "I just…I'm not sure what to do."

She chewed on her lip, her bright blue eyes shining so brilliantly that Charlie momentarily forgot what they had been discussing. "You don't have to do anything," she assured him. "The fact of the matter is that you already have a family. You don't need to worry about me…"

"No! Claire…" he started, and then was unsure how to proceed. He smiled warily and came closer to her, putting a hand on her arm. "We'll figure something out."

"Charlie, I don't want to be a burden. I know this complicates things even further…"

He laughed ironically. "Just when you think it couldn't get any more complicated, eh?" He paused and his hand reached for her face. "And you're not a burden." The corners of her lips raised slightly in a sad smile and she placed a hand on top of his briefly before he sighed and let go of her. "So," he said slowly, "I suppose Desmond knows?"

She nodded. "He didn't take it well."

He rubbed his chin briefly, hesitant to ask his next question. "Are you…are you going to stay with him?" Suddenly, the thought of Desmond Hume raising his child with Claire was the most awful thing he could think of. It was enough to make him shiver and he was all of a sudden overcome with the miserable idea that he still wouldn't be able to have a family with Claire after all, although all hope of that had long since disappeared.

She glanced down. "Charlie…"

He sucked in a breath. "It's okay."

"I don't know, Charlie," she admitted with a frown. "I don't even know if it's what I want…"

Hope filled his heart, as awful as it was. "It's not? But I thought -"

"I like Des, I do…but I never loved him," she continued. "I love you. And if I could, I'd have a family with you. Even after everything," she sniffed, "I'd still have this baby with you. It's bloody insane and I've tried and tried to move on…but I can't help it."

A strange mixture of emotions ran through him then. What Claire was saying was music to his ears; it made him want to pick her up again and swing her around, to jump up in the air and shout - as cheesy as that sounded. But she was right - the fact was he was already preoccupied with his own family. Every time he tried to find a way around it his mind seemed to clutter and give up. He couldn't leave, and he couldn't take Paige away from Ana. And what if Desmond decided to stick around? That Scottish git would be parading around as his kid's dad, just like he had with Aaron. It would hurt him like hell. He felt sick.

"I…I need to talk to Ana," was all he could say to her at that point. "I'm sorry Claire but I need to go."

She didn't say anything, just let Charlie leave and take Paige with him. He was confused and lost, but determined; determined to get his life in order. It was time to grow up. It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself. He hated this self pity, detested this jealous man that had suffocated him and blocked out the happy and cheerful side of him that had to fight to emerge on the surface nowadays.

Paige deserved better that that. And if he was ever going to have a chance at being a good father to this new baby - whether he was with Claire or not - he was going to have to accept the reality. No anger, no bitterness, no resentment.

For the moment though, he had to figure out what on earth to do about this new situation. He and Ana needed to sit down and have a serious conversation.

* * *

Desmond realised before it happened that drastically changing his relationship with Ana-Lucia this way was probably not the best way to mend his broken heart. But it was too late now, he thought as he lay beside her, hearing her fast breathing and feeling the warmth of her body next to his. Since nobody truly wanted him - not Penny, not Claire - he had the impulsive urge to seek comfort in the only friend he seemed to have. He knew she felt the same and perhaps he had taken advantage of that. There had been a connection between them; a bond. He had never intended for it to be sexual - not that he wasn't attracted to her. On the contrary, she didn't appear to have the body of a woman that had just given birth not long before. He did, however, notice a scar on her belly that she had refused to talk about. Nevertheless, the awkwardness of their actions settled in to the silence as a reminder of what they had done.

He was greatly surprised when the silence was interrupted by the sound of laughter. Apparently, it was infectious as he suddenly found himself grinning and he propped himself up with one arm to look at the laughing woman beside him. "What?" he asked, trying to stifle his own laughter.

"We're idiots," she announced, smiling. "Absolute morons."

He pushed back his hair with sweaty palms, pouting humorously. "I suppose we are."

"Look at us!" she continued. "Did we think this would help?"

"I guess we did," he sniggered. "It's tragic, isn't it?"

"Damn tragic." She suddenly started to giggle. Desmond had never seen her giggle before. Then again, he had never seen her laugh this much before either. "This," she said in between breaths, "this is how it all started." Desmond laughed a little, unable to control himself, shaking his head at the irony. She seemed to calm a bit then and she put her hand on his broad shoulder. "Sorry."

He smiled down at her. "Me too."

"If it's any consolation," she began, looking up in to his gleaming eyes, "Claire is crazy. And so's that Penny chick to not want you in her life."

He breathed a sigh, his smile fading. "They just didn't love me the way I loved them."

"Not the L word again," she moaned, sinking back down further in to the mattress. She paused for a moment in thought, her eyes wandering. Desmond watched over her curiously, and then she began to speak again. "You know, I've tried really hard…to feel that. Love. I've tried with my mom, with the baby, even with Charlie. I don't know if I do feel it. I guess I've forgotten what it feels like."

He nodded sympathetically and smiled a reassuring smile. "It won't always be like that," he told her gently, brushing her curls behind her ear with his fingers. "One day you'll meet someone who'll love you for who you are, and then it'll hit you. It'll run through you like electricity. You'll feel it."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled forcefully. She sniffed. "Was it like that with you and Claire?"

He was silent for a moment then, his eyes wandering away from her as he thought to himself. "No," he admitted slowly after a short while. "It was like that with Penny."

She stared up at him, lips parted as if she were going to say something. But her eyes were drawn to the door where she was shocked to see a figure standing watching them. Charlie. He looked as though he had seen a ghost, his jaw open and his eyes wide at the sight of the couple in front of him. Desmond followed her gaze and was horrified to settle upon Charlie's frozen frame. He didn't say a word. He closed his mouth, swallowed uncomfortably and walked way, grinding his teeth together.

Muttering a curse under her breath, Ana lay back and covered her eyes with her arm. Desmond tore away from her, leaping out of bed and grabbing his jeans in an effort to quickly clothe himself and gain some dignity back. He followed Charlie who stood in the middle of the apartment like a zombie, still and silent. Desmond attempted to form some sort of explanation, or at least an apology. But Charlie refused to listen.

"I don't want to argue with you, Desmond." He slowly turned and scowled at him, picking up the man's shirt from the floor and throwing it at him. "I just want you to get out."

Desmond had guilt in his eyes. He shook his head, almost pleadingly. "Look, I'm sorry."

"Did you not hear me? Get out!" He shouted, pointing furiously towards the door. Desmond frowned and pulled his top on over his head before walking towards the door, his movements slow and hesitant. Charlie refused to look in his direction until at last he closed the door.

When Ana appeared in her nightgown, his face expressed a look of contempt, but mostly disappointment. "What is wrong with you?" he questioned. "Did you not listen to a word I said this morning?"

"It was a mistake," she admitted, and then she was silent again.

"So why did you do it?" His voice raised and little Paige who had been crawling around on her baby mat started to cry, as if she could sense her parents' dismay. "I thought I had gotten through to you. What was going through your mind?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she said over the baby's crying, but immediately contradicted herself by rolling her eyes and adding, "he was going through a hard time He's a friend."

"He has a funny way of treating friends," he retorted. "I should know from when he was supposed to be mine."

"You _have_ no friends," she reminded him cruelly as her eyes pierced in to his, her chest rising and falling at a brisk pace. The comment seemed to have an effect on him and at that point she softened and dropped her angry gaze. "I just liked him. That's all."

Her words made him sympathetic and his muscles relaxed a little bit. He was clearly disappointed in her and strangely hurt, but being angry wouldn't help the situation. But with Desmond? It felt almost as though she _had _done it out of spite. He suddenly realised how Ana must have felt when it was him having the affairs right under her nose. And then that reminded him of the news he had to tell her.

"I suppose he told you?" he asked, his voice and stature calmer although slightly apprehensive for her reaction. "Claire's pregnant."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "Looks like you've got babies popping out of everywhere." She glanced at him, her stormy eyes a mixture of guilt and resentment before she turned around and escaped to her room, closing the door behind her. Charlie's eyes drifted in to blank space, his thoughts buzzing and his emotions flying. He could hardly hear Paige's muffled cries above the loud volume of overwhelming fears digging through his mind.

_**TBC**_

_**A/N: The next chapter will be the LAST! Thanks so much for reading this far! :D **_


	14. Chapter 14

Desmond shut the door behind him as quietly as he could, aware that Aaron would probably be asleep but also hoping to avoid his inevitable confrontation with Claire. The house was silent but, as he had expected, Claire emerged from her bedroom with much the same expression he had.

They exchanged awkward smiles and tragic gazes from opposite sides of the room. Des cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he told her guiltily.

"No, Des. I'm sorry." She neared him. "I should have been honest from the start."

He swallowed and gazed at her listlessly, realising that his whole world was about to change. He sighed and glanced down at the floor. "This isn't working, is it?"

Claire bit her lip, a line forming on her pale forehead. "I wanted it to," she said honestly. "A lot."

"Me too. I thought I did. I thought this could be it, you know?" He smiled mournfully. "You and Aaron. But this isn't me…it isn't my life; where I'm supposed to be."

"I understand, Des. Perhaps…perhaps we weren't a good match. I always thought you were too mature for my unsophisticated humour anyway," she laughed slightly and he did too. She swallowed back tears as she approached him closer and put her hand on his arm. "I will always love you, Desmond. As a friend. You've been so good to me and I appreciate that. I always will." She embraced him.

"I hope things work out for you, Claire," he whispered as he held her close and breathed her in for the last time, and silently, she hoped so too.

* * *

Charlie sat uncomfortably on the ground beside Ana's bedroom door. She was on the other side, her head against the door frame and her knees pulled up to her chin. The door formed a barrier between them and Charlie was failing to communicate with her.

"Are you going to talk to me?" he questioned through the wooden door, leaning against it and fidgeting absentmindedly with his ring.

"I don't feel like talking about it, Charlie," he heard a muffled voice say. She was tired and embarrassed. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it with him.

"I'm sorry if I upset you," he said after a moment, glancing down at his hands. "I was angry."

She hugged her knees and almost buried her head in her lap. "Well, you were right," she admitted miserably. "And once again I screwed up."

"You're not the only one who screws up, remember?" he pointed out, half-humorously and half serious. "We all make mistakes…get in to difficult situations."

She inhaled shakily, pausing for a moment to consider the newest issue that had landed smack-bang in the middle of their lives. "What are you going to do?" she asked. "About Claire."

A long pause followed before a cough and a quiet _I don't know_. He asked her what it was she wanted, but she refused to answer him then and the apartment fell silent. Realising this was a decision he would need to make on his own, he pulled himself up and planned to make a brief escape to think over his options.

"I'm going out for a bit to clear my head," he told her, unsure if she were even listening anymore. "Take care of Paige while I'm gone, yeah?"

Ana didn't respond, but she buried her head in her hands when she heard the door of the apartment shut.

Charlie felt a bit like a ghost as he drifted through the streets; everyone seemed to walk through him. He felt transparent, as though his problems and secrets could be read by the whole world. He shielded himself and crossed his arms over his chest, breathing in the cold air and finding his eyes drawn to the dark blue of the sky. The sun was setting and the Christmas lights illuminated the streets, reminding him of yet another year that had sped past him. He thought about his future and wondered where he would be this time next year. What family would he have? And would he be happy? He sighed and found himself in the one place where he had been doing a lot of contemplating over the past year.

Leaning over the bar, he ordered himself a drink. Some may have thought he were drowning his sorrows, but this time he was merely here to be alone and to think. His place of solace: it was rather pathetic. Still, it was a place where most men found themselves when they weren't wanted anywhere else and it had sadly become a place of familiarity and comfort.

And Charlie hated it.

He thought about leaving; all those bad memories and terrible feelings resurfacing like a dreadful illness. He shouldn't be here. But his gaze caught a familiar face and he felt he couldn't walk away without saying something to him. He approached the man, noticing a travel bag at his feet. He frowned.

"Hello, Desmond," he said in a quiet voice.

Desmond looked up from his drink and surrendered a sad smile. "Hello, Charlie."

"Thought you were done with coming here," Charlie added, remembering the other man's words from earlier. He knew that they had both suffered from a terrible reliance on alcohol before, but Desmond had since battled the cravings. Charlie feared whatever had happened between him and Claire had caused him to fall back in to old habits.

"I am. I just came here to think really."

Perhaps they had some things in common after all, Charlie thought. Apart from a mutual interest in Claire Littleton. Charlie couldn't be mad. He could see Desmond was in a certain amount of pain -helplessness. He knew what that felt like.

"Everything okay?"

He hesitated, shooting Charlie a look of suspicious uncertainty. He glanced back down to his drink and replied "Claire and I broke up and…I thought it would be best to leave."

There was a short pause. Charlie wasn't overly surprised, but he still felt a pang of guilt and sympathy nonetheless. "I'm sorry, Des."

"Why? It's what you wanted, isn't it?" Desmond mumbled.

Charlie bit his tongue after a short sigh. "I'm sorry for giving you such a hard time," he told Desmond sincerely. "And I'm sorry for hitting you the other night. I shouldn't have taken that ring - if you wanted to marry Claire then it was none of my business…"

"_Marry Claire,_" Desmond repeated, his brows furrowed and his head shaking as he faced his former friend. "Charlie, that ring wasn't for Claire."

A line formed on Charlie's forehead as he looked at Des, bemused. "It wasn't?"

Desmond released a frustrated sigh before taking another swig from his glass. He wiped the moisture from his lips and leant forwards. "I bought that ring shortly after we got off that bloody island," he started. "I bought it for Penny. But since I couldn't find her, I kept it. I had it the other day because I was going to return it…because I thought things with Claire were getting serious."

Charlie's jaw hung open, having felt as though a large crate had fallen on top of him. He felt like the biggest bastard ever. "I'm sorry…I had no idea…"

"I know," Des smiled cheerlessly. "It's okay." He turned back to his drink. "Deep down I knew that Penny was going to be the one. But she was gone, I couldn't find her…and then Claire called me asking for help. I didn't mean to interrupt what was going on between you two." He rubbed at his stubble awkwardly, clearing his throat. "And I didn't mean for that to happen with Ana. I have no excuses. I'm sorry."

Charlie nodded sombrely. "Well, you can't undo what's been done. I should know that." He glanced down at the wooden bar, staring intently at the many chips and scratches that decorated it. "Are you leaving town?" he asked quietly after a long moment.

Desmond shrugged. "I'm not sure, mate. I'll probably rent a place out for a little while, sort my life out, think about what I'm going to do next." He paused. "But in case I don't see her again…will you tell Ana I said goodbye?"

Charlie smiled slightly. "Of course."

"Thanks."

"So…are we okay?" Charlie asked him cautiously.

Des grinned and patted him on the back. "We're okay, brother. Past is past. I'll get you a drink, shall I?"

"Just one more," Charlie replied. "Then I should probably go."

And just like that, over a year's worth of bitterness and jealousy had been erased as though time itself had just been altered.

* * *

Claire had been checking on Aaron, wiping away the last of her tears when she heard someone at the door. She feared it may be Desmond again, or even worse Charlie. She couldn't handle anymore emotional confrontations tonight, she had decided. All she wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep; escape the drama of reality. Nothing could have prepared her for who was on the other side of her door, standing awkwardly with a small baby in her arms and a suitcase at her feet. Claire's blue eyes widened with surprise and curiosity.

"Ana? What are you doing here?"

The woman looked down and sucked in a breath of cold air, holding on to the wrapped-up baby securely. "I know I've not been your favourite person, Claire and I've made it no secret that I'm not too fond of you either…but…I know you have a good heart and I know you make Charlie happy." She looked away then, pouting slightly and her eyes settled on the child, her eyes large and currently a bright blue. Ana-Lucia brushed Paige's little cheek briefly, the warmth of her skin a strange comfort before she held her out towards Claire. "Would you take care of Paige for me?"

Claire hesitated. She was confused by Ana's words and still somewhat shocked at her sudden appearance here. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Please," Ana said, holding out Paige in her arms. Claire sighed and collected the child in her own arms, securing her so that she was comfortable. Ana smiled sadly at the sight; the image of Paige with Claire, the baby grabbing at her blonde locks and looking serenely up at her. "She deserves someone like you to be there for her," she told the other woman without resentment. "And so does Charlie."

Claire's mind spun but she was beginning to see what Ana was getting at; her appearance here, the suitcase, her apparent offer of peace. Claire looked up from the baby girl and anxiously in to Ana's eyes. "Ana, if you're doing what I think you're doing then please - don't."

"I'm making things easier for him," she answered bluntly.

"You don't understand - this will crush him!"

"He's miserable and so am I," she almost snapped. "They're both better off without me. And for now I think I'm better off without them." She paused, suppressing tears. "I can't _breathe_," she explained. "I need some space…at least for a while. Can't you understand that?"

Claire swallowed. "I understand. But Ana, are you sure? This is your daughter you're leaving. Your family."

Ana's frown deepened and she shut her eyes for a moment. "We weren't a family," she almost whispered. "I have to go." She gave the baby one last glance, picked up her suitcase and headed off down the dark street.

Claire rocked Paige gently as she began to fuss. As she looked in to those tiny little baby features, she wondered whether she was aware that her mother had just abandoned her, and whether she cared at all. Would she ever come back? Claire thought, and wondered if Ana would regret giving up and running away. She had almost done that once herself and it would have been one of the biggest mistakes of her life. She hugged Paige close to her and bit her lip at the realisation that she would have to tell Charlie the bad news.

* * *

"I don't know why I feel so protective of her," Charlie mused as he wrapped his fingers around the cold surface of his glass. "Ana, I mean. I try and make her happy but she doesn't think she deserves to be. It makes me feel…guilty." He swallowed. "I guess it's because I feel responsible…I'm to blame for her misery."

"Charlie, you're not to blame," Des assured him, watching him sympathetically.

"Aren't I? If I hadn't of felt so sorry for myself that night then I wouldn't have taken advantage of her. She wouldn't have gotten pregnant and we'd be perfectly happy living our separate lives."

"Would you?"

"What?"

"Would you both be happy?" Desmond clarified.

Charlie paused, his nose wrinkled with thought. "I guess…I'm not sure. I always assumed Claire would have eventually forgiven me and we'd be together by now, raising our own family."

"But what about Ana?" Desmond asked him, raising his drink to his lips and taking a quick swig. "Do you really think she would have been better off without you?"

Charlie reflected over his time with Ana-Lucia; the good times balanced with the bad. Charlie had offered her support, a home, family, friendship - all when it seemed like she had no one else. He had never really seen it that way before and had doubts as to whether Ana saw it that way too. Maybe the experience had been more beneficial than he first thought.

"I should probably go and speak to her," he mumbled, leaning back. "We have some big decisions to make and we should be making them together."

The Scot offered him a brief smile. "Good luck, mate. I'll see you around."

Charlie nodded him a thanks and with one last glance, turned and left him by himself. Desmond leant back over the bar, taking another sip from his glass, trying to figure out what the next stage in his life was. Was it going to be a life of loneliness, a life he had become so accustomed to? Where was he going to stay? What was he going to do? He caught a glimpse of a girl with brunette hair, standing not far beside him. He turned to see her standing upright, watching him with wide, solemn eyes. It took him a moment to recognise her.

"Tracy?"

Her lips parted and she nodded, seeming anxious. "Hi, Desmond."

"I almost didn't recognise you without wet hair," he laughed, but she didn't smile in return. He straightened up, suddenly becoming curious. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you should meet a friend of mine," she said seriously, though her expression had softened slightly. "I believe you two have already met…"

His eyes fell upon a figure behind her. His mouth ran dry. The world stopped and for a moment he felt as though he would be swallowed up by it. The figure approached him; a woman with light brown hair, tanned skin and beautiful dark eyes. His muscles tensed and he held his breath.

"Penny," he breathed, shock written all over his expression. She didn't smile. She looked as though she were on the brink of tears. She took another step closer, tilting her head to the right as she took him in for the first time in years and studied his pleasant face.

"Desmond," she spoke, and her voice made him tremble.

"What…what are you doing here?" he stuttered, swallowing hard.

"I've been looking for you, Des," she told him, her hand reaching for his face, her touch soft and comforting. "I finally found you."

He closed his eyes, momentarily savouring her touch. How he had missed those hands, those slender arms, those silky lips he longed to kiss. But the shattered pieces of his heart stabbed in to him like a painful reminder. He felt betrayed. Confused. "What do you mean you've been looking for me?" he questioned, swallowing down his tears and turning his head away from her. "I've been right here. I'm the one who went looking for you. I couldn't find you anywhere, Penny!"

"Please," she whispered. "I had to protect you from my father. He had people watching me and I couldn't let anything happen to you."

He inhaled, his eyebrows knitted together. "What are you talking about?"

"The island, Des." Her voice was quiet and she approached him further so their faces were almost touching. "I know about it and so does my father. He wants it and he knows you've been there. Don't you see? I didn't want you to get hurt."

He took a moment to absorb all of this, his eyes wide and moist. His lip trembled. "Why now?" he demanded. "Why not a month ago? Or two months ago?"

She looked up at him, her gaze still somewhat shocked and relieved at the same time. "I read an article about two Oceanic 815 passengers who crashed on that island with you. I thought…if I could find them, I could find you…I came to Los Angeles and stayed with a friend. Tracy. It just so happened she recognised you from the picture I showed her."

She pulled a photograph out from her bag, the one of them both in London in front of the scene with the boats. He stared at it through blurred eyes and he sniffed, smiling very slightly.

"You kept it."

"Of course I kept it. I love you, Desmond. I always have. I don't want to lose you," she cried, her tears finally falling. "I was so afraid you had moved on. Forgotten all about me."

He looked down at his feet a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. All this time they had been separated, and the woman he truly loved was finally here in front of him. So much had changed…so many hearts had been broken. Was it really too late to repair it all? But when he looked at her tearful face, her gorgeous eyes, the answer seemed pretty clear to him.

"I could never forget you, Penny," he said softly. "I love you."

She smiled through her tears and he wiped away the moisture from her cheeks. Feeling happily overwhelmed, she wrapped her arms around him and disappeared in to his chest. He held her close, his arms embracing her tightly, his face in her hair. This felt like a dream. He breathed a shaky sigh and closed his eyes. He would need time, he knew that. Penny probably did too. But for now, he just needed to hold her. Needed her with him. Because she needed him too.

* * *

When Charlie arrived home, he came back to an empty house. There was no sign of Ana or Paige anywhere. He looked in all of the rooms and searched the flat for any notes. There was nothing. He started to feel his heart thud a little louder, an unpleasant feeling of nerves swirling around his gut. He began to fear the worst as he paced the room when he heard a knock at the door and he sprang for the handle.

The door swung open and he took in a deep breath. He wasn't prepared to see Claire standing there, Aaron in his pram and little Paige in the makeshift Bjorn around her neck. Instinctively, Charlie reached out for the baby and held her close to him, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed, looking down at the child as if he had forgotten what she looked like. "What happened? Where was she? Where's Ana?" he questioned, addressing Claire who stood at the door nervously.

"Charlie," she said slowly, apprehensively. "There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it? I don't understand." He shook his head and looked at Claire, bewildered as he propped the baby up in his arms.

"It's about Ana. She came to see me earlier."

He paused, mouth opening gradually. "Why would she do that?"

She glanced away from that pained face. She knew on some level, he already knew what she was going to say. He had expected it and feared it for a while now. She sniffed and raised her eyes to meet his. "Charlie, I know you don't want to hear this…but…Ana, she…" She froze at the sight of him. His mouth was open, his eyes a mixture of child-like confusion and distress.

"She's gone. Isn't she?" he said sadly, glancing at the small child he had in his arms, now motherless and totally oblivious to what was going on around her.

She closed her mouth and nodded gently. "I'm sorry."

He nodded too, processing the words in his head, his jaw stiffening. "I didn't want this for her," he mumbled, stroking Paige's little head softly. "I didn't want her to go through what we went through."

Claire knew what it was like not to have a parent in her life. She also knew what it was like to decide to give away a child. She understood the pain both parents must be feeling, but she wasn't sure what was best for them now. She only knew that Ana was gone and she wasn't coming back.

"I can find her," Charlie said adamantly, looking around desperately. "She can't have gone far. I'll make some phone calls."

"Charlie," Claire frowned, her hand reaching for his shoulder. "It's too late. You're tired and you've got a baby to look after. You need to rest. Ana will come back when she's ready."

Charlie bit his lip, his mind rattling around with hundreds of different thoughts and fears. "What if she doesn't come back?"

She smiled a sympathetic smile and rested her head against him. "Everything's going to be okay," she told him. "We're here for you, remember? Me and Aaron. You're not alone."

He tried to smile but it only showed for a brief moment before disappearing altogether in to a sad frown. His forehead rested against hers. He heard Aaron gurgling in his pram. Claire ran a comforting hand down his chest and opened her eyes gradually.

"We can stay if you want," she whispered, pulling away slowly.

"It's okay," he replied, smiling gratefully. "I think I need some time…"

"Sure." She offered him a supportive smile and stepped away. "I'll see you later. You'll be okay, won't you?" she asked as she took hold of Aaron's pram. The infant sucked his thumb, falling asleep, blissfully unaware of the drama going on around him.

"I'll be fine, Claire. Thanks."

She nodded and left him without another word. When Charlie closed the door, the flat was immersed in silence. Not even Paige made a noise, only sucked on her fingers and stared vacantly in to space. Her father was much the same as he contemplated what to do next. He couldn't sit there and do nothing. He couldn't let Ana make one of the biggest mistake of her life. And God knows where she had disappeared to. She could be in danger.

He carefully placed the baby next to him on the sofa as he grabbed the phone and started to dial. He called everyone he could think of, which didn't take long. The hospitals hadn't heard of her so he could breathe a sigh of relief there; at least she hadn't been hurt. Doctor Finley hadn't seen her, only expressed his sympathies and offered one last piece of advice - that perhaps all she needed was time.

Teresa was furious and only blamed him for making her daughter run away again when she had only just got her back. A few days later she would call round and apologise, explaining that Ana often ran way from people who wanted to help her. It was nobody's fault. But Charlie couldn't help taking the blame anyway.

He stayed up for hours making phone calls and waiting to see if she would come back. He spent a lot of that time just thinking. Was it finally over? Playing happy families with Ana; trying to make everything okay when it clearly wasn't? When it clearly couldn't be.

He should be happy, shouldn't he? Now he could be with the woman he loved and who loved him back. He could raise his children with her, be a family with her and the babies. There was no Desmond, no Ana-Lucia in their way anymore. But when he looked at Paige, asleep in her blankets, he couldn't be happy.

Once again he had failed to keep his family together. That's what this had been, an attempt at fixing past mistakes. He had failed with his parents and Liam, failed with Claire and Aaron, and he had failed with Paige and Ana. Maybe she hadn't been the best mother, but she was Paige's mother and that counted for something. Didn't Ana care? Didn't she think how this would affect Paige when she was older? The blaming herself, the heartbreak of missing a parent. He thought Ana knew what that felt like as much as he did. He never wanted his child to experience that.

But it was too late now, he thought as he lowered his head in to his hands and swiped at his pink and tired eyes, the tears sliding down his cheeks. It's always too bloody late.

It was like this for months afterwards - the waiting. Charlie guessed he was holding on to that last glimmer of hope that she would come back. She didn't. He continued working at the music shop and earned enough money to keep going with Paige's treatment. Claire happily looked after Paige when he was busy. He came round often to spend time with her and Aaron and not long later, after all hope of Ana returning had since vanished, he moved in with them.

The couple had been out to dinner one evening when they had bumped in to Desmond and Penny at a table not far from theirs. They saw each other several times after that, and then they left to go live abroad, keeping in contact by phone or - of course - instant messaging.

Charlie saw Doctor Finley one last time about Ana's disappearance and his plans for the future, and then he never saw him again. He didn't really need to.

Teresa visited occasionally to see her granddaughter but often she was too busy to come round, so Charlie sent her photographs and video clips of Paige's first words, or her first steps and other things like that. He would always quiz her about Ana, but Teresa would always say she hadn't heard from her.

It was almost half a year later when the letters started to come. From Hawaii, New York, Seattle, Detroit, and several other places. There was a long apology in the first one and images of Ana-Lucia in various places around the country. She wanted him to show them to Paige. He did, but only because he hated the thought of his daughter not knowing what her mother looked like. He wished she would just come home and then the letters wouldn't be necessary. She wouldn't come back for another year, and even then the visits were more or less annual. No matter how much he asked her, she would never stay.

Paige got used to having an absent mother, but she had the best father ever to make up for it and a wonderful stepmother to love and care for her. Of course, she would also have Aaron as a stepbrother and an adorable baby sister to play with.

The baby, Caroline, was named after Claire's mother who called and flew over for visits as often as she could. Caroline was a healthy little girl, with a pretty combination of dark blonde wisps of hair and light blue eyes. She was born on the fifteenth of August which, if put the American way, would be 8/15. They ignored the eerie coincidence, but it would serve as an ironic inside-joke for years to come nonetheless.

They were the kind of family that Charlie and Claire had always wanted; the kind of family they had missed out on when they were younger. And if it took all that drama, heartbreak and angst just to get there then it was all very much worth it.

* * *

**Three Years Later.**

* * *

Blue eyes opened to the sound of birds singing harmoniously outside the window, the morning sun shining through the closed curtains and creating a pleasant glow throughout the room. Charlie rubbed at his tired eyes and checked the time. 8:23am. He supposed he should get up.

A slim arm looped around him then and a warm body snuggled up to his back, blonde hair draping over his face and making him smile.

"Morning," said Claire, kissing him on the cheek. He rolled on to his back and she rested her head against his chest.

"Good Morning," he replied, stroking her soft curls. "Sleep well?"

"Very." She sat up and grinned at him, taking in his handsome features; his cute little nose, his gleaming eyes that would never seem to stay one colour. It made her giggle for some reason. Perhaps the sight of him made her so giddy that she had to laugh. "Look at us," she said, her head tilted to the side.

"I know. We're sickeningly sweet."

"No, I mean…I'm happy."

He smiled at her, his face lighting up. "Me too," he said before kissing her again. "Fancy some breakfast?"

Her smile grew but before she could answer, the phone rang. "I'll get it. You pour the cereal," she told him humorously and she bounced out of the room towards the phone.

Charlie heard some excited squealing from the other room as he poured the milk in to the bowl of cereal. He set the bowl in front of Aaron, now a sweet little boy of four whose head was now covered with a thick mess of blonde hair. "What do you say?" Charlie asked him.

"Thank you," he mumbled, rubbing at his large blue eyes before grabbing a spoon in his little hand. The boy's accent was mainly Australian, as Charlie thought it would be. He hadn't picked up on a strong American accent despite being around them since birth, but sometimes Charlie noticed the odd word sounded more like Northern English among anything else. "Why is mummy screaming?"

"I don't know, mate. I'll ask her, shall I?"

Claire walked in with the phone pressed to her ear and a large smile across her face. "That's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you, Des. Really, I am. Take care, okay? See you soon!"

"Good news?" Charlie asked curiously.

After putting the phone down, Claire spun around and grinned at him. "Des and Penny are getting married," she announced. "He's invited us to the wedding."

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "About time."

"You do want to go, don't you?" she questioned him before kissing her son's head and wishing him a good morning only to have him wipe his face with his arm and exclaim a disgruntled 'Yuck!'

"Of course I want to go. He's one of my best friends. I'm happy for him," he told her, grabbing another bowl of cereal and placing one in front of little Paige, now three years of age and as beautiful as ever with her silky curls of brunette hair and pink little cheeks. "There you go, love."

"Thank you, daddy!" she smiled, looking up at him with large hazel eyes. Recently, Charlie had noticed, they seemed to have settled on a mixture of blue, brown and green but from a distance they gleamed a pretty shade of brown.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." He ruffled her soft curls before reaching over for a mug of hot coffee, which he handed to Claire. "Oh, that reminds me," he added, taking a sip of his own drink, the warm liquid sliding down his throat pleasantly. "I bumped in to Jack again the other day and he wanted to know if he could come round this week. I told him it'd be fine. The kids would enjoy seeing him again."

"Uncle Jack!" cried Aaron with excitement. "Is he going to bring me presents again?"

"I want presents!" Paige pouted.

"Uncle Jack would have no money left if he gave you presents every time he saw you," Claire laughed, holding her mug to her lips and smiling. "But that'll be nice," she told Charlie brightly. Her ears were suddenly overwhelmed with the familiar sound of a baby's cry. "Caroline's awake," she sighed. "I'll see to her. Can you help Aaron get ready for school?"

"Absolutely," said Charlie. "Hurry up and finish your cereal, Turnip Head. Don't want to be late."

Aaron sipped the last of the milk from his bowl. "Mummy says not to call me that anymore. I'm notta turnip. They sound yucky."

"What's a turnip, daddy?" asked Paige, licking her spoon.

"Nevermind," he chuckled, clearing up their bowls. "Come on, Trouble. Let's get you ready for school."

Claire carefully approached the cradle and scooped the little child up in her arms. For two years old, she was a champion at screaming the house down. "Hush," said Claire, rocking her gently. By now, her eardrums were immune to the incessant screams of infants. She did not give in to tantrums. She made sure her children were happy and healthy and always did as they were told. She had resolved that she lived up to her reputation as Supermum after all.

Caroline quietened and began to doze against her mother's chest, her little eyes and mouth closing and her paleness replacing the agitated pink in her cheeks so that her face looked calm and peaceful. Claire held her close and stroked her short blonde locks of hair, entranced by the little girl's innocent beauty. She had always wanted a daughter, and now she had two. She was proud of her family and she loved them all unconditionally. Things had finally fallen in to place, she thought, eyeing her wedding ring with a saccharine smile.

Outside the baby's room, Charlie had left Paige playing with her Barbies whilst he helped Aaron put on his jacket. "There you go, mate," he grinned, kneeling in front of him. "Looking smart as ever. Well - smart enough for playing anyway. What are you doing today at school?"

"We're going to learn about the ocean," said Aaron brightly. "I'm drawing a picture of it."

"The ocean?" Charlie's eyebrows knitted together playfully. "Never heard of it. What is it?"

"We've been to the ocean before, dad," he giggled. "It's a big blue puddle of water!"

Charlie pouted in thought. "Doesn't ring any bells. Maybe you can show me your picture and it'll jog my memory?"

"Okay," the boy laughed, holding his hand out for Charlie to take hold of. Charlie stood and took his little hand, calling to Claire that he would be back in a short while. His plans changed, however, as soon as he opened the door.

A few moments before, a woman had climbed out of a car to examine the house. She took off her sunglasses, pushing back her long dark hair and inhaling deeply. She hadn't been here for a while and it was clear her nerves were overwhelming her. The walk along the pavement lasted an eternity when at last she arrived at the front door. It felt like several minutes before she gathered the courage to knock, and then the door swung open anyway. Standing there was a cheerful-looking man and a little blonde toddler holding hands. She tried to force a smile but failed miserably. He would probably recognise her better this way anyway, she thought.

"Ana?" Charlie breathed, his eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Ana told him irritably. "We need to talk. Is that okay?"

"I'm in the middle of something," he admitted, but upon seeing the disappointment in her eyes he changed his tune. "Let me just get Claire to take Aaron."

Claire wasn't bitter about seeing Ana again. In fact, she was very pleasant, greeted her and asked her how she was. Ana smiled back politely before noticing the young girl propped up in Claire's arms. She held her breath. "So this must be Caroline," she said in a quiet voice, almost in disbelief. "She's gotten so big."

"I can't believe how fast they're all growing," Claire said cheerfully. "It feels like just yesterday that this one came in to our lives," she added, tapping the sleepy child's nose.

"She looks like you," Ana said. "Both of you."

When Claire and the children disappeared in to the other room, Charlie turned towards Ana, his expression solemn. "Haven't seen you for almost a year," he said. "How have you been?"

"A lot better since the last time you saw me," she revealed. "I met a guy, actually. We've been seeing each other for a while now and…we're moving in together."

"Really? That's great. I'm happy for you," said Charlie.

Ana smiled briefly, glancing down at her jeans for a moment. "That's kind of what I came here to tell you. I'm going to be around a lot more. We're moving here, to L.A."

Charlie's face changed but Ana couldn't tell if he was happy or perturbed by her news. "Is this a permanent move?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I've had a lot of time to think, Charlie. I've figured out some things and…I'm ready to do what I should have done years ago, if I'm not too late."

There was a long pause which seemed to stretch out to infinity, much to Ana's dismay. She feared Charlie would reject her, but the worst thing was knowing she would deserve it. It was a huge relief to see that cheeky smile on his features again. "You're not too late."

Breathing a sigh, her lips formed a smile. "Thank you," she said. "I know I've got a lot to make up for, and I don't expect everything to magically work out. I'm really going to try this time. Make up for what I missed."

"Good," Charlie responded more seriously. "Let's just…take it one step at a time, eh?"

Ana nodded understandingly, her lips still in a solemn sort of smile.

"Are you happy?" he asked her, catching her off guard. She swallowed and stared at those caring eyes, blue like the sky and bright like the sun. She had missed that.

She raised her head and nodded again gently. "I am." A smile formed on her tanned features, her neat curls resting against her cheek bones. "You know, I really am."

His shock at seeing her again reformed in to relief and happiness for her. He was still disappointed and somewhat angry that she had left, but she deserved to be happy. She was beautiful inside and out and she deserved somebody to make her realise that, so if she had finally found that person - that light that brightened the darkness in life - then he wasn't going to be bitter about that. He was glad for her.

Her eyes sparkled a glint of anxious excitement. He knew what she was waiting for.

"Would you like to see her?" he asked, smiling.

Ana held her breath again but nodded. It had been several months since she had seen her daughter - she hadn't yet hit three. Charlie called her name and a pretty little girl skipped around the corner, her brown curls bouncing at her shoulders and her round lips in a pleasant smile. Ana took her in. She hadn't realised before how much the little girl looked like her. She felt her heartbeat start to pound inside her. This was her daughter. She couldn't believe how much she had missed out on. Her first words, her first steps. She only hoped her baby would remember her from her occasional visits and frequent letters.

Charlie stepped aside. "Look who it is, Paige."

The girl's eyes widened, and Ana noticed how hazel they looked. "Mommy!" she squealed and ran as fast as her little legs would let her. Ana knelt down and Paige shot in to her arms. "I missed you, mommy."

Ana, recovering from her shock, was instead overwhelmed by this reunion - overwhelmed in the best way possible. She breathed in the clear summer air, swallowed back her tears and then tightened her grip around her beautiful daughter. "I missed you too, baby. Did you get my letters?"

The girl nodded vigorously in her arms. "You're pretty in your pictures," she told her mother, hanging on tightly. "Can I come with you next time?"

Ana pulled back and placed a strand of Paige's brunette hair behind her ear, examining her pretty features. "Well, that's the thing. Mommy's not going to be travelling much anymore. She's going to stay here in the city."

"Really?" Paige exclaimed with excitement. She looked at her father as if for conformation, and he grinned at her. "You can come visit anytime?" she addressed her mother again, those hazel eyes as big as saucers.

Ana laughed and nodded, her eyes welling up. She never thought she would be ready for this. As Charlie observed her, he could still notice some tension whenever Ana communicated with the kids, but he was visibly impressed by how far she had come and how much more comfortable she was around Paige. Maybe all she really needed was some time after all.

She embraced Paige again, holding her small frame closer this time. "I love you, mommy," the child said, her accent a strange mix of English and American which was only noticeable on certain words. Ana didn't mind. It had taken her too long to realise it, but she loved her just the way she was. She looked at Charlie and smiled, aware of how well he had looked after her in her absence and grateful that he hadn't let Paige forget her.

"I love you too."

Charlie watched them both. Mother and daughter, family, together; the way it should be. He concluded that perhaps the best things in life were accidents, even when they were disguised as mistakes. Meeting Claire and Ana happened quite by chance. Aaron, Paige, Caroline - all three terrific little accidents. He couldn't imagine a life without any of them.

They had all made mistakes in life, Charlie reflected as he observed his daughter and her mother together, but this might have been the best one he had ever made.

**The End.**

**A/N: Very cheesy ending, the last little bit is always the hardest and I always go in to cheese over-load, lol. But considering the angst in the previous chapters, a little cheese is actually quite nice xD I really hope you liked the ending and enjoyed the fic as a whole. It really does mean a LOT how many of you have read and commented. If you haven't commented yet and have been a silent reader, I would love to hear your thoughts on this :D If you want to see more Chana stuff by me or are interested in any more of my writing (or vids) you can subscribe to me here or check out my YouTube channel - my username there is jemmalynette. You can also find me on LJ. **

**Also, I know some people have said to me that they're sad to see this fic end - I know I am, I tried working every night on this! - but remember I am still thinking about a prequel. It probably won't be as detailed as this though and there will be many time skips but I really want to cover things like Paige's birth and Ana's pregnancy on the island, etc. So if you're interested in that it might be a good idea to sub me so you don't miss it! :D**

**Again, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your kind comments. They've really had me smiling and motivated me to keep going with this. I am also thrilled to meet other people who are in to these AU ships as much as me, lol. *hugs you all* Hope to see you all again! **

**-Jemma**


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